Harry Potter and the Liberi Fatali
by Notus Lethe
Summary: Book 5: Because of Voldemort's recent uprising, Aurors have been situated about the school. But that's not the only thing that's strange this year.... Harry, Hermione and a few others are changing into someone else...
1. Prologue: Summer Letters

Prologue: Summer Letters

Well welcome to Book 5. Do you like it? Oh wait... you haven't read it yet! I hope you enjoy this. This is the first chapter of _MY_ Book 5. The real one is coming out in July, but who cares? MWAHAH! This chapter is very very odd. You might even be confused by the end! YAY! These are the letters that Harry, Hermione, Ron and Sirius have sent to each other during the summer. Mind you, these aren't all of the letters, just the most... significant ones. ^^* I hope you enjoy this chapter, as it's a new way of writing for me. I'm not going to write all chapters like this, only this one. This is also like the Prologue. I hope you enjoy it and look out for other chapters! (P.S., I would like to shamelessly plug 'Sorting' my other HP fic). Harry Potter doesn't belong to me. Read, hopefully review AND ENJOY!

**Harry Potter and the Liberi Fatali  
**Prologue: Summer Letters  
[*~Charisma~*][1]

_Dear Ron,  
I've been here two weeks. The Dursleys already asked when my friend' would want me over for the summer. Can you believe it? Only two weeks. Do you think next year they'll just let me go home with you?  
Harry_

***

_Dear Hermione,  
It took Hedwig forever to find you, I guess Bulgaria is pretty far. I hope you're having fun and Ron's been trying to get me to ask you for autographed stuff. He doesn't want you to know that he still likes Krum. Are you going to come back and stay at Ron's house for the last week like normal? I hope so; it's almost a tradition.  
Harry_

***

_Dear Harry,  
Mum says you can come over whenever. She wants to get you next week, but I don't know how your Muggles are going to react. Fred and George will probably hurt that fat Muggle again. Once they heard we were going to get you, they've been all whispers. What do you think's the best way to get you?  
Ron  
P.S. Have you heard from Hermione yet?_

***

_Dear Ron,  
I'll take the bus to the Leaky Cauldron. It was easy to get Muggle money from Sirius and you can pick me up there. I don't think it would be good if the Dursleys saw you guys again. They'd kick me out on the street even if Sirius is my godfather. Tell your mum that they're taking me to the Leaky Cauldron, not that I'm going by myself. I don't know what she'd do.  
Harry  
P.S. Hermione hasn't written me back yet._

***

_Dear Harry,  
I have not been to Bulgaria yet. I told Hedwig that I was sorry I made her fly all the way out here. I keep her an extra day so she can rest. I don't know if I'll ask Viktor to sign things for Ron, but I'll try. As of the moment, I doubt I'll return before it's time to leave for Hogwarts. If I do, I'll most likely see my parents. So no, I won't be going to Ron's for the end of the summer. I am sorry I'm breaking the tradition Harry, tell Ron I'm sorry too. I don't trust any of the owls here and I would hate to ask Hedwig to take two trips.  
Love from,  
Hermione_

***

_Hermione,  
How are you not in Bulgaria? Hedwig was very happy to see me when she got back. Why aren't you in Bulgaria? What happened? Where are you? Hedwig came back with a bit of snow on her coat. I'll probably be at Ron's when you get this next, so if you want to send him anything, go ahead.  
Yours,  
Harry  
P.S. What are you doing that takes up all your time?_

***

_Dear Sirius,  
I'm at the Weasleys, and I feel like I should do something. There are already eight people living in the house. I've tried to offer anything, money or labor, and I've been turned down.  
How is where ever you are? I hope it's better than here. It's dreadfully dull. Well, at the Weasleys, nothing is ever truly dull. I haven't been doing much, mostly helping Ron with his chores. I think Mrs. Weasley is starting to think that she might not feel so bad giving me chores.  
Hermione has been gone for a month now, not owling as much as we (Ron and me) write her. When she does reply, Hedwig is usually covered in snow and tired. Do you know of any places having winter right now? Ron's worried too, but we haven't told anybody yet.  
Love,  
Harry_

***

_Dear Harry,  
I didn't get off at the right stop on the train, so I haven't been to Bulgaria. It's actually quite nice here. I miss you Harry, tell Ron I miss him too. I'll see you both at Hogwarts.  
Love from,  
Hermione_

***

_Harry,  
I've met Mrs. Weasley and I know that she feels most like she has to treat you as much as a guest as possible. That's just her mannerism. I think helping Ron like you are is making it a bit easier on her, knowing that the work is voluntary.  
It's very hot here. But I am having the same problem you are; it's very dull. You would think a grown man like me could find something entertaining to do. There are times when I just wish I could take you with me Harry, that we could be a family. But until things get better, I believe that we'll just have to stick it out.   
Sounds like Hermione just needs some time to herself Harry. I wouldn't worry about it too much. I'm not positive on the places around the world with winter right now, but anything extremely north, like Norway, is bound to have snow year long. How long did it take Hedwig to get back?  
I don't want to scare you that I'm becoming a protective parent Harry, but you didn't mention how you're doing. I know that this past year in school, a lot of things happened. If you want to tell me about anything Harry, anything.  
Sirius_

***

_Hermione,  
How could you not get off at the right train stop? I know you Hermione, and you wouldn't do something like that. Are you even going to go to Bulgaria? When are you going to get back here? Are you going to ride the train with us to Hogwarts? And where is here? You're making me very nervous Hermione.  
We got our books for school already. It felt weird without you being here. Ron's being a git because he thinks you've moved to another school. He says he doesn't miss you but I know he does. I do too.  
Where are you Hermione?  
Harry  
P.S. We owled your parents, they thought you were here, at the Weasleys. You're not._

***

_Dear Mr. Save the world, get into other people's business without them wanting to and being all around a bloody nosy git!  
Harry, where my parents think I am isn't of your concern. I will tell them what they need to know. You don't need to get involved. Where I am, they don't have underage wizard laws, so I am practicing magic. Maybe one day I'll be as good as you, the most powerful wizard in the whole bloody world.  
I've been to Bulgaria. Tell Ron that I got him something. I can't believe I'm writing you and not Ron.  
Harry; don't get mixed up with me anymore. I can handle myself, I've been known for it. When I see you again, we'll talk more. I don't know what I'll say next time if we continue writing to each other in this manner.  
Love,  
Hermione_

***

_Hermione,  
It's the day before we all get on Hogwarts Express. I owled your parents, telling them that you were showing Ron the Muggle game Truth or Dare and he was dared to send the owl. I don't know why you're getting upset Hermione. I'm just worried. That's all.  
This summer has been bad Hermione. We're a team, you me and Ron, and without you, it feels weird. And bad. I don't want you angry at me. But, it just feels like you aren't with us anymore.  
I'm starting to believe Ron. It seems like you're not even going to come back to Hogwarts. To us.  
Love,  
Harry_

***

_Maybe I'm not.  
Hermione_

***

_Dear Sirius,  
I just don't understand girls. Not at all. Sometimes they just overreact to everything. I don't understand what's wrong with Hermione. She's been so weird lately. You wouldn't believe the last few letters we've written.  
Hedwig came back in a week and a half and Hermione said that she kept her for a day, so about five days there and back with a rest stop. Is Norway that far away? I looked it up on a map, and it seems like Hermione might be somewhere around there.  
I'm still kinda numb about last year. It hasn't really set in yet. I just can't believe that someone could die at Hogwarts. I wonder if there won't be a lot of First-Years because of it. I know people have heard about the circumstances, but what if having the famous Harry Potter at Hogwarts is causing people to not want to go there? What if, because of me, one of my friends gets killed? What if I get one of the teachers killed or destroy Hogwarts or blow up the whole world?  
I'm starting to hate being Harry Potter.  
Harry_

Continued...

Liked? Hated? HURRY UP WITH THE BLOODY NEXT CHAPTER? Tell me what you think below! [angelfire2996@yahoo.com][1]  
P.S. for you who are all spazzed about minute details, Hedwig flew Hermione's last letter to Harry on the train, and Harry sent Hedwig back out again once the train stopped to find Sirius. 

   [1]: mailto:angelfire2996@yahoo.com



	2. Chapter One: The Sorting Incident

So here is it

So here is it. Chapter One. I know you are peeing your pants you're so excited. Well just tell your friends! I'll be coming out with Chapter Two soon. Promise. It'll probably take a week for me to get out each Chapter. Also, most everything in italics are flashbacks. This chapter is confusing and will be for a while. Hopefully, it offers some plots and subplots for you! And for the Hermione lovers, she's going to be definitely in Chapter Three, maybe Chapter Two. I love her too guys! For all you wondering what the _frell_ Liberi Fatali is, well... you won't find that out til later. However, I have included the lyrics to the song that inspired me to write this and will do so for every chapter. Read, review and most of all ENJOY! Oh yea, the Sorting Hat's song is _supposed_ to be VERY weird!

****Harry Potter and the Liberi Fatali  
Chapter One: The Sorting Incident  
[*~Charisma~*][1]

______________________________  
Excitate vow e somno, liberi mei.  
Cunae non sunt.  
Excitate vow e somno, liberi fatali.  
Somnus non eat._

_Surgite.  
Invenite hortum veritatis._

_Ardente veritate  
Urite mala mundi.  
Ardente veritate  
Incendite tenebras mundi._

_Valete, liberi,  
Diebus fatalibus. _

With arms still wrapped around his shoulders and clutching a piece of parchment tightly in his hand, Harry Potter stepped off the train, peering up at the sky. It was cloudy; much like the last time he had been standing there, but it wasn't raining. The whole thing gave him chills. A booming voice reminded him that just down the way was Hagrid, a person that would give his life for him. Maybe that wasn't as comforting as it was supposed to be...

Harry hurried forward, catching up to one of the numerous black robe clad figures, but with familiar flaming hair from his head. Ron turned, smiling at Harry. But there was something behind it.

They'd never gone into Hogwarts without Hermione there. And this year, she was gone.

Stepping through the huge doors that were the entrance to Hogwarts, Harry noticed two figures dressed in black on either side. Immediately, he shrank a little towards the center.

"I thought Dumbledore wouldn't allow dementors in here anymore." Ron gave him a funny look before also noticing the two figures around them. A small smile worked its way onto his face.

"They're not dementors Harry. They're Aurors. I've heard Dad talk about them sometimes. But I don't know what they'd be doing here. They're supposed to catch Dark wizards and things like that. Why would..." Ron trailed off as Harry tried to keep the blush under his collar.

"Voldemort." Harry muttered, continuing towards the Gryffindor table and seating himself.

_"I would like to welcome you all to the first year of Hogwarts!"_

Harry glanced at Ron, who had just sat down. "Did you say something?"

"No." A confused look was on his face and Harry shook off the strange feeling running through his body. He turned his attention away from himself, determined to make this the year where someone else got the spotlight. Anyone else.

The first years scrambled inside; it must have started raining. Hagrid managed to keep the majority dry, while a few on the outside had water sprinkled in their hair. With direction from Professor McGonagall, the first years assembled into a jumbled line. She brought out an old, tattered hat and set it on a two-legged stool ("How did they get it to stand up?" Ron asked) in the middle of the Great Hall. Harry watched anxiously, wondering what song it had made up this time.

The dirty, well-worn hat, looking as if it might fall apart at any moment, opened a wide tear along the brim, as if it were some huge mouth to engulf all that it could.

> > __
>> 
>> Would you try me for a moment?  
Stick me just atop your head,  
I won't put you in a predicament, So come sit down instead!   
I'll always know where you are   
Whichever house you think   
I have never been wrong thus far   
And you are not going to be my start!   
Will you take a seat at Gryffindor the bold?   
Or make yourself loyal in Hufflepuff?   
Will you be Ravenclaw, know the secrets of old?   
Or will you be powerful in Slytherin?   
Don't worry about the future   
It's in my good hands   
With time it will be easier   
But as this is a first   
I will try my best   
To put you where you do belong   
Not satisfied with the rest!

The Sorting Hat ended its song and Harry clapped hesitantly, wondering just what the Sorting Hat was thinking of when it wrote that song. Ron, on the other hand, was clapping as enthusiastically as the rest of the students.

And –though he didn't have that much experience- turned to Ron and said, "Wasn't that the oddest Sorting song you've heard?"

"Just like the rest, a bit on the short side though." Ron didn't turn to look at Harry, watching as Professor McGonagall unrolled a large sheet of paper from a scroll. Harry --who had a memory that was sometimes too sharp for its own good-- could recall that the list of names had been much longer last year. But, that might have just been his imagination.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool. Your House will then be called by the Sorting Hat, and you will proceed to the appropriate table," Professor McGonagall said, gesturing to the large banners above every table that supported the names of the Houses.

"Atkins, Holly!"

A tiny girl, with choppy blonde hair and confidant steps, came forward, placing the Hat delicately on her head. It took a while, with everyone leaning forwards in their seats, waiting for the first name to be called.

Finally, the hat shouted, "RAVENCLAW!"

Even though Holly Atkins ran towards the Ravenclaw table, stumbling a bit as she did, the whole Hall applauded (a few bored claps from Slytherin of course). Harry tried not to dart his eyes around the crowd looking for Cho Chang, his long time crush. He didn't find her.

"Bjork, Shane!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

It always seemed like the Slytherins were chosen in no time, and Harry wondered if it was because the Hat just knew evil. Draco Malfoy (read: public enemy number one) grinned and shook the boy's hand, who looked rather disappointed himself. _You were almost in there Potter_, he reprimanded himself lightly. The Slytherin House was supposed to be for people who wanted power and would do anything to get it, but now it had gained a reputation for producing Dark witches and wizards more than any others. Everyone seemed to notice Shane Bjork's reluctance and clapped unenthusiastically.

"Bolderg, Helena!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Callowan, Roger!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Chang, Li!"

Harry's head jerked up from making faces at himself in his silver plate. Cho had a brother? He watched the boy walk proudly to the stool, sit on it wearily, and place the hat atop his head. Cho came forward to the end of the table, clutching it with her hands so hard that her knuckles turned white. Even from across the hall, Harry could hear her chanting, "Be with me Li, be with me."

"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted it so loud, that everyone leaning forward sprang back.

The table roared with applause, everyone standing and welcoming the small boy to the House. Faces were beaming as they welcomed their new member and Harry glanced back at Cho, who was still staring at the stool that was Sorting Rupert Duadly. Her face was pure white and she moved her mouth like she couldn't say anything.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

The Sorting continued, they got a few more first years added to the Gryffindor table, but not nearly as much as Ravenclaw or Slytherin. Harry watched, counting the tally on his fingers and loosing count several times. It was either two, seventeen or four hundred new Gryffindors.

Nearly Headless Nick, the mascot ghost of the Gryffindor House, welcomed each student, that familiar panicked look crossing all their faces as he clapped an invisible hand through their backs. It looked as if no one was worrying about anything nearly as much as he was. Harry frowned at the reflection in the plate before him.

"MacNeill, Emma!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

It was Hermione. She would always have something factual to say right about now, and Harry was missing her usual retorts with both him and Ron. It was getting boring without her there. Like last year, when Ron hadn't spoken to him and he felt like there was something missing, the same thing was happening again.

"These Gryffindors do look so much better than those of last year. I believe we'll win the Inter-House Championship no contest." Nearly Headless Nick said, grinning broadly to himself. He was decked out in full regalia, for tonight was Sorting night. The Inter-House Championship was a yearly contest where the Houses competed for the most points to win the cup.

Gryffindor had won three years in a row, not counting last year because of the Triwizard Tournament. Harry swallowed a hard lump in his throat at the thought of _that_ Tournament.

"Pakelwin, Arias!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Quentin, Phoebe!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Quentin, Melody!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

The Sorting continued for only a short while after "Scwartz, Sarah!" ("HUFFLEPUFF!") and ended with "Zelda, Queenie!" ("GRYFFINDOR!"). Harry removed his eyes from the two-legged stool (would it be only one leg next year?) and stared expectantly at his plate, not bothering to watch Professor McGonagall pick up the stool, hat and small mountain of paper.

"Hey Harry, what's Professor McGonagall doing?" Colin Creevey, a fourth year who practically fell on his knees and worshipped Harry whenever he saw him, whispered to him, elbowing Harry rather sharply in the ribs. Wheezing a bit, Harry glanced over at the space that was used for Sorting.

Professor McGonagall was not exiting with the materials floating in an orderly fashion behind her, but instead beckoning to something that stood in the doorway. The Aurors around the door made a motion, like if she wanted them to pick whatever it was up and forcefully bring it to her. She shook her head, no, it would come on it's own.

Slowly, gathering all the attention of Great Hall occupants, a figure dressed in snow-white robes lined with white feathery fur made it's way towards the Transmogrification teacher in the center, inching as if the weight of the world were on it's shoulders. A rush of excited and confused whispers spread throughout the Hall, making it sound like thousands of ghosts were flying through the area. The noise gave Harry a cold chill down his spine.

The figure sat on the stool and it wobbled albeit it hadn't with anyone else. Professor McGonagall gently placed the tattered hat on the figure's hooded head.

"I WILL NOT SORT A FIFTH YEAR!" the hat screamed, and Harry half expected it to jump off the person's head and run away. Professor McGonagall grabbed the hat and talked to it, using her wand quite a few times. Finally, she placed it back on the person's head.

She said quietly (and no one would have heard if they hadn't all been on the edge of their seats looking at both figures), "Valfreyja, Bryn."

Almost immediately, the Hat screamed in reply, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry didn't know whether to clap or laugh or cry. So, he tried for the same blank stare the rest of the table had. Malfoy on the other hand, seemed to enjoy this turn of events greatly.

"I guess the _winners_ all sit at that table!" He shouted, laughing so hard that his pale skin flushed pink in his cheeks. His two henchmen Crabbe and Goyle, guffawed with him. Soon, the entire Slytherin table was in a hoard of giggles, almost drowned out by the now enthused applause from Gryffindor and the other two Houses. Whether for Bryn Valfreyja or just to extinguish the noise from the most hated table.

The girl closed her robes more tightly around her and took a chair that was the farthest away from everybody, refusing the plate that a cheerful Queenie Zelda offered her. She rocked back and forth, keeping most everyone away from her. Harry tried to ignore her, but something at the back of his mind nagged him, like she was going to cause some kind of trouble.

Dumbledore came forward, smiling and gaining the attention of everyone. "As they say in France, which is a lovely place, _bon appetite_!"

Food appeared on the plate with rapid speed, but not everyone dove right in. Perhaps it was the greyish-blue ceiling, rolling with clouds in a violent battle that had seemed to give up on the trickle of rain for a more dramatic storm later. Or maybe it was just that everyone was still trying to get a look at the mysterious Bryn Valfreyja. Whatever it was, it soon passed and they began eating as rapidly as anyone else.

"What's this?" Ron said, piling a large spoonful of stuff from a container onto his plate and poking it with his fork (definitely the wrong utensil to use).

_"What's that?"_

"It's a delicacy in Norway. You'll like it if you try it."

"It looks like something my owl regurgitated."

"If you don't try it, I will shove it into your mouth."

"Ith's goo."

"It's from Norway. A delicacy." Harry said almost instantly, spooning some onto his plate and taking a mouthful. It was good, very good actually, and he got a little bit more.

"Foreign foods Harry? Sounds more like something Hermi-" His stop was so abrupt that Harry froze. Hermione. It had been probably a full hour since he'd last thought of her. Where was she? What was she doing? _How_ was she doing?

Harry gently set down the fork and grimaced, pushing his plate away. His stomach clenched violently and he put a hand lightly on it. Those last few bites might be coming back soon...

Dessert soon came, but Harry ignored it. Instead, he focused his attention on the table at the front, where all the teachers sat. The normal teachers were there; Professor Flitwick sitting on his usual cushion and Professor Trawlany with her large bug like eyes. Harry grimaced at the sight of her. Another year of predicting his death.

__

"Take my body back Harry."

Next down the line a few professors, his eyes skimming too quickly over Professor Snape, his least liked teacher, was Professor McGonagall, smoothing out her black hair and readjusting her square glasses. Then came Dumbledore, who looked thoroughly happy and brightened Harry's mood considerably. To the point where Harry picked a bit at the truffle Ron had placed so delicately on his plate. Next to Dumbledore should have been the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, but he was starting to wonder if no one wanted it anymore, considering how cursed it always was. The chair was empty. Harry's eyes made their way down to an unfamiliar person.

"An empty chair and another new professor?" He muttered, taking a bite out of the chocolate without realizing it. Only when the sweetness registered in his mouth did Harry glance down at the truffle in his hands, slowly sitting the food in his mouth onto a napkin. If he ate anything, he wasn't going to be happy.

The new professor was wriggling in his chair. Not from being worried or anxious, no, he was utterly excited. He was loud, with bright red hair (unlike Ron's though, more fire engine red than the orangish color of Ron's hair) and glittering hazel eyes. Harry almost scooted back his chair. This new professor was a bit intimidating and, judging from the huge smile on his face, almost about to burst into a rainfall of happiness.

One of the Aurors came towards Dumbledore, leaning forward so that one black gloved hand was on the edge of his chair and its hood sagged to cover its face even more. Harry shivered involuntarily: these Aurors were too reminiscent of the dementors.

Just then, Dumbledore stood up, commanding all attention to him with that simple movement. Each student waited quietly. Last year, the Headmaster had told them all of the Triwizard Tournament. Who knew what awaited this year? Harry leaned forward, crossing his arms under the table.

"As you have all seen, there are a few changes. Due to... unfortunate circumstances of the past year, the Ministry of Magic has decided that having Aurors posted around the school would lessen any chances of... misfortune." Dumbledore chose his words very carefully and each student hung on them, leaning even more forward. The professors, on the other hand (excluding the ball of energy), were stony faced and staring straight forwards. Even Hagrid looked disgruntled. "Also, due to a few past events, years five and above are being granted a new class: Studying for O.W.L.S. which will be taught by Professor Wumbrivil."

The man who had been practically dancing in his seat sprang up, grinning and sat down before he hit the ceiling. Harry's mouth wouldn't close. Dumbledore continued, adjusting his wizard's hat atop his white hair.

"The position of the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor has been, by order of the Ministry," the way Dumbledore said it, Harry knew that the Ministry had no part in choosing the new DADA teacher, "filled by an Auror who has taken a special interest in the Dark Arts, Professor Whitelighter."

The Auror who had whispered to Professor Dumbledore raised a gloved hand slightly, to show who it was, and then quickly faded into the background. Harry also noticed that a few of the Aurors had pulled down their hoods, smiling friendly at the students. They were unnerving, like heads floating in the area without their bodies.

"And lastly, the Inter-House Championship is on again this year! I look forward to seeing you all compete." Dumbledore explained exactly what it was for the first years and then gave a few more words.

With that, they were dismissed. One different thing however, was that McGonagall led the Gryffindors to their familiar portrait of the fat woman in a pink dress. Professor McGonagall had always gone off to that mysterious place that all the teachers went (probably the teacher barracks or maybe she turned into the cat and prowled around the school all day...), never had she come with them. Harry tried to lag behind with Ron while trying to look inconspicuous. McGonagall was whispering to the strange girl in the white robes.

Inside the Common Room ("Pixie Dust!" being said to the fat lady), McGonagall stood in front of the fire, her entire face was lost and only her silhouette could be seen. It was a very creepy image. Harry shivered again, counting the number of times he'd been spooked already. It had to at least be four. _What's wrong with me?_ He thought absently, and then McGonagall began to speak.

"As you have noticed, we've received a student in her fifth year." All eyes in the Common Room zoomed towards the shrinking girl standing almost directly behind the Transmogrification teacher with an almost audible noise. McGonagall continued. "She is originally from a school up in Norway."

__

"... not positive on the places around the world with winter right now, but anything extremely north, like Norway..."

"It's a delicacy in Norway."

"All the way from Norway? What are you doing in Scotland?"

McGonagall reached behind her and almost roughly put the girl in front of her. She stood, clenched tight and hiding her face from everyone. Slowly, the professor pulled back her hood to reveal a girl with light blonde hair that fell underneath her robes and blazing eyes that were so blue; they started Harry a bit. She looked extremely tiny, like she's snap if someone touched her wrong.

The girl's eyes drifted over the students, glazed and like a deer that had just been surrounded by a pack of wolves. Unlike normal, she didn't hesitate on Harry, or his scar and he frowned. She clenched her hands into fists in front of her and looked up at McGonagall.

"Where is my room?" The words were carefully said, as if she didn't want to mess them up. The professor asked Angelina to take the girl up to her room. She then turned back to the accumulation of students, her face going hard.

"I expect for you all to be on your best behavior and represent Hogwarts well. If I hear of any problems..." She let the threat hang off, glancing at almost everyone directly in the eyes. McGonagall pointed her wand at Fred and George, who barely resisted diving out of the way. "Especially you two."

George smiled uneasily. "Aww Professor McGonagall, you don't trust us?" The look said, 'no'.

The teacher left and the room grew abuzz with chatter. Harry dropped his head into his hands and slowly lifted it up, motioning to Ron. Ron came over, dropping next to Harry in the chair.

"Something weird is going on here." Harry said quietly, trying not to be overheard by any of the other students. Ron nodded.

"I can guess why Aurors are here, but I didn't know Hogwarts accepted exchange students." Silence fell between them for a while. Soon however, curiosity overcame them. Both boys gave each other funny looks.

"Do you think Aurors can see through Invisible Cloaks?"

Continued...

Like? I hope so. Tell me what you think below or email me at [angelfire2996@yahoo.com][1] thanks! P.S. if I spelled Trawlany or Flitwick or Aurors or anything else wrong, I'm sorry! I can't find my books! ARGH!

   [1]: mailto:angelfire2996@yahoo.com



	3. Chapter Two: Being Good

Chapter Two: Being Good

Finally! I know you 're going to kill me for it being so late but I figured that I 'm probably gonna be gone until school starts, I don't want it to be a month from now! So here it is: Chapter two! hehe! I really like this chapter (I like how Bryn is turning out too). I hope you like it too. Remember, anything in italics like this:_ italics_, is a flashback unless it's otherwised mentioned ok? And I know it's very weird and odd... it's supposed to be! The plot is coming along ever so nicely. I'm very excited! Enjoy! Chapter Three will be written while I'm on vacation... hopefully.

****Harry Potter and the Liberi Fatali  
Chapter Two: Being Good  
[*~Charisma~*][1]

______________________________  
Excitate vow e somno, liberi mei.  
Cunae non sunt.  
Excitate vow e somno, liberi fatali.  
Somnus non eat._

_Surgite.  
Invenite hortum veritatis._

_Ardente veritate  
Urite mala mundi.  
Ardente veritate  
Incendite tenebras mundi._

_Valete, liberi,  
Diebus fatalibus. _

Turns out, Aurors could probably see through walls and read minds along with being immune to the deception of Invisible Cloaks. Not only where they forcibly put back into the Gryffindor Common Room, but ten points were already taken off. The band of Aurors that had been stationed around the fat lady were ready to confiscate Harry's invisible cloak when a voice broke clean from the silent dark figures.

"No. Let him have it." The figure stepped closer, still undeterminable whether male or female with the low commanding voice. The hooded face came up to Harry's and he could see a flash of white, a smile maybe? "You won't sneak out again, right Mr. Potter?"

After a definite reassurance from both Harry and Ron, they fled back to their beds, not talking about it. But tomorrow... tomorrow they'd wonder who that person was.

Breakfast was accompanied by the routine receiving of schedules (and a brief scolding from Professor McGonagall who took off another ten points). Apparently, the Auror who had saved Harry's cloak also told the Head of Gryffindor. Harry poked at his food again as Ron moaned over his schedule.

"Every year I get one of these things, I always think we'll miss out having anything with the Slytherins. 'Specially Potions. And every daft year I'm wrong! First classes are Transmogrification with Ravenclaw and Herbology with Hufflepuff again then lunch then- oh no!" Harry, who had been looking at the ceiling that was covered with grey clouds, glanced abruptly at Ron, frowning.

"What?"

"We've got that crazy teacher for O.W.L. Prep after lunch. What was his name? Woombragle? Wumtrinkle? Oh I don't remember, but he looked insane!" Ron moaned again, looking further down on his class list. "And we don't have Defense Against the Dark Arts until Friday! With Double Potions last, of course, just to make it all better."

Harry stared at Ron for a few more moments, waiting for more reactions, but when he got none, Harry looked back up at the windows along the top of the building. Where was Hermione? And how did she expect to get back into Hogwarts with school already starting?

There was a loud crash and the splat of food on the floor. Harry glanced over towards the noise, tapping Ron to view what looked like that shy girl, Bryn Val-whatever, had managed to do something involving Draco Malfoy. Harry grimaced. Malfoy. The school bully that had been haunting Harry and his friends since their first year. He wasn't that tall, even Ron and Harry had shot up over the summer, and his pale blonde hair matched his pale eyes and skin, a coldness that never seemed to go away. A coldness that seemed to infect anyone he was around.

Harry stood up, leaning over Ron a bit so that he could see what was happening. Bryn had backed away from Malfoy, tightening her robes more around her. Ron laughed and pointed, leaning close to Harry.

"She dumped her breakfast on Malfoy! All down his robes!" The end of the Gryffindor table, where the incident had occurred, were up on their feet, trying to get a better view. Ron moved down a bit, making a bit of a way for Harry. They could barely see the four figures in black (Bryn, Malfoy, Goyle and Crabbe, Malfoy's two goons), Malfoy's hair extremely bright in contrast to their dark clothes.

Malfoy's sharp face was drawn up in disgust and his hands were straining towards Bryn, although one was reaching for his wand. He wiped what looked like remains of toast and pumpkin juice off the front of his robes. "How _dare_ you?! I outta--"

But Bryn said, loud enough to block out the rest of Malfoy's words but not raising her voice, "You are not as good as Harry Potter."

With that and a spin of her robes, she was gone.

The chatter amongst tables was still strong while the area that had witnessed the little incident was dead silent. Each had open mouths that wouldn't close or work. Malfoy looked the worst, sputtering and jerking around. He was sure she had insulted him, but wasn't quite sure how.

Finally, the bell rang and the first class was to start. Students rose from the table and filed out the large doors at the end of the Great Hall. Ron managed to keep silent until they were out from beneath the enchanted ceiling, but then he burst out laughing.

***

It happened in Herbology.

He was squeezing the tubes attached to a long stem of the perdonie flower that was to give Snape the key ingredient to some new potion he was working on. Harry despised most anything that would benefit the Potions teacher and was doing a poor job at keeping the sliced tubes from entering the container along with the liquid.

Someone, a certain blonde silent girl, had scooted so close to him that Harry was starting to feel self-conscious, glancing to make sure she wasn't staring at him from time to time. Each time, she hadn't been. Ron, on the other side of Harry, had an amused grin on his face that stayed the whole time.

Trying to make the best out of a bad situation, Harry was thinking about the new technique Professor McGonagall was teaching them in Transmogrification. She usually had the class turn animals into objects and back. But now, McGonagall had said that they were to be transforming animals into different animals. Rumor leaked throughout the class that she was training those who had the genes to be Animagus'. The thought brought a smile to Harry's face as he squeezed the perdonie tubes with a bit more accuracy. His dad had been an Animagus and ever since he'd found out, the idea had been on his mind.

Of course, with the thought of his dad, it always brought that deep-rooted tinge of pain...

"Mr. Potter! If you'd watch what you're doing!" Professor Sprout's voice struck a cord directly in Harry and he snapped to attention. She was normally one of the sane, kind teachers but when he looked down, to where she was pointing, he realized that he had dropped a tube into the liquid. "Hurry up and get it out Mr. Potter, or you'll ruin the batch."

He sighed with relief when she didn't take any points and was about to stick his hand into the jar when someone cleared their throat. Bryn held out tweezers to him and offered a tiny smile. Harry returned, albeit smaller and more fake. He then fished out the tube.

"Uh... thanks Bryn." He handed them back and her fingers slipped over the entire instrument brushing his. A shock went through him, as if she had been electrified.

__

"I don't think we should be doing this." It was his voice, strong and clear. Whomever was with him shook its head, moving away.

"You've got to believe me! I trust her. I really do. And... the others believe the same. She's pregnant for God's sake, you don't think we can take her in?" He frowned, stroking his beard. There wasn't very much of it yet, but it was going to be a great beard.

"This isn't my sole decision you know, we're a team, we have to work together." She sat on the stool in his tent, putting her head in her hands. He reached forward and stroked her head softly, feeling compassion well up inside him.

"When I look at her, I know that's why we're doing this. That's why we're building this. For people like her." He knelt down in front of her, resting his forehead on her knees.

"Alright then. Tell the others that I agree. We'll do this if it's an unanimous decision." A smile broke across her face and she reached down to take him in her arms, her head resting on his shoulder.

"It's settled then. She stays with all of us."

Eyes opened to a familiar ceiling. _Oh no, not the infirmary again_, Harry thought with a groan, turning over. But his eyes spotted someone wearing black robes, a student, sitting next to his bed. Harry sat up, feeling completely fine.

"Why am I in the infirmary?" He asked Ron, who had brightened when he realized Harry was awake. Another figure came out of the shadows, one with white blonde hair. Harry tried not to groan again and offered a weak smile.

"You don't remember Harry? We were in Herbology and Professor Sprout made you get that tube out of the jar we were squeezing that stuff in. Then you just blacked out. Professor Sprout almost fainted too! It was... it was..."

"Scary." Bryn finished, folding her hands in front of her and looking down. Harry sighed and jumped off the bed. Nothing seemed to be hurt...

"I'm fine." He glanced around for Madame Pomfrey who'd put him back into bed for days. Grimacing, Harry managed to sneak out with Ron and Bryn's help. The girl was mostly quiet, a complete opposite of Hermione.

That hurt, deep down. _Hermione_...

His footsteps faltered and the two following him collided, sending him almost crashing forward. But they managed to right themselves and sneak out of the infirmary without being caught. For once in his life.

It was later in the day, and Harry barely wondered how long he'd been out. That was the weirdest dream he'd ever had. It wasn't the normal ones, where he was watching what was happening. He was _in_ this, that girl that had been talking; she was talking to _him_. The feeling was unusual but not really unpleasant, as if it was some memory he could only remember in his sleep.

Ron kept giving him looks, like he wanted to say something but he couldn't tell him. Harry was going to say something when he realized exactly _why_ Ron wouldn't talk.

A blonde girl was huddled in her robes, walking with quick short steps, following them.

"So, uh, you came from Norway?" Harry asked, wincing at the stupidity of the question but trying. Ron raised an eyebrow.

Bryn Valfroginhimer or whatever her last name was glanced up, blue eyes widening and looking fearful for a moment. When she registered that Harry was talking to her though, those eyes went soft.

__

"You are not as good as Harry Potter."

"I did not mean to use your name Harry Potter." The words were carefully pronounced, like before. It sounded as if she was reading from a script, some plot they were all a part of. "But he did not know what he was going to do. He was hurt, and he did not know what he was doing. People become hostile when they are afraid."

She glanced at Ron, narrowing her eyes. It caught him off guard and he was about to say something (something Harry was sure to shatter the extremely fragile person in front of him) when she started up again.

"I lived in Norway. But I do not come from there. I am fro-"

A choked sound came from her throat that caught both Harry and Ron's flickering attention. Those unnatural blue eyes were wide and her mouth was still open, threatening to close but never quite making it. She was staring at something. Two gazes moved along hers to find a particular person coming from the teacher's lounge.

Her question was a hazy mist. "Who's that?"

Ron's eyebrows came together in confusion before he frowned deeply, a small noise of disgust escaping his throat. The teacher had now turned, muttering things beneath his breath while trying to balance several books in his arms. Harry watched, tranquil as the teacher looked ready to loose all of the items he was carrying. That crazy girl Bryn, however, watched in a most unnecessary horror as both boys moved not a muscle to help the teacher.

Before either one could stop her, she had rushed forth and brought out her wand, a few words springing from her mouth just as books toppled from the arms that were carrying them. The books danced lightly in a jumbled floating pile. Harry was shocked: the spell was perfect and the teacher didn't look furious. His face held instead a strange curious look, one Harry'd never seen before. Well, at least not on that particular person.

Flashing black eyes soon found the other two members of the hall and narrowed, some of the coldness seeping back onto his face. Bryn still looked as if someone had tried to kill her puppy, sincere concern was blatant on her face. Slowly, those bottomless eyes turned back to the tiny girl and lost that narrow edge.

Bryn took a deep breath and, looking as genuine as an angel with some depthless compassion shining in those eyes, grabbed a hold of the two hands that belonged to the most notoriously abhorrent teacher. "You are good."

The words startled the Potions Master and he left his long fingered hands (ones that Ron always told Harry looked like girl's hands) in the grasp of the girl's as he flinched, thin eyebrows furrowing. Moments were lost, between the girl and proclaimed 'good' teacher, between the scarred boy and the redhead who couldn't understand why ten hundred points hadn't been taken off Gryffindor already.

The moment had been frozen in seamless crystal.

And it was shattered when the door squeaked. Bryn lost her concentration on the spell holding the books up and they clattered to the floor loudly. The teacher drew back his hands into the cold black mouths of his sleeves and scowled angrily at the three Gryffindors. With a quick wave, the books were now lined up behind him in orderly rows.

"See to it that I do not catch you between classes again Potter." With that empty threat and a quick flash of black robes, he was gone.

Harry frowned at being singled out, but it was quickly lost as his mind pushed urgently forward the event that had just happened. The rational part of his mind was kicking in. Not only had Bryn used magic in the halls, but she'd touched someone that no one even wanted to see. And they hadn't lost any points!

Ron looked equally flabbergasted.

"Who was that?" Bryn asked softly, gazing at her hands with that cherub purity still plastered all over her face. Ron managed to speak, his voice a bit shaky.

"Professor Snape."

***

They had missed the first class with Professor Psycho ("Thank the wizards!" Ron has said a bit too loudly) and were late for dinner, weird looks being sent their way. Bryn had been attracting those looks from everyone and there were whispers threading through the halls. Once again, Harry couldn't bring himself to eat any of the food on his plate. Everything he saw flashed before him: after it had already been in his stomach.

Ron had no qualms about plunging onward; talking garbled around mouthfuls of food. The blonde next to Harry was quiet, picking at her food and taking tiny bites. Her delicate movements caught Harry's eye and he watched her a few moments.

That... dream or whatever it had been, was started by her. Their fingers touched and Harry couldn't remember a time before then that they had skin to skin contact. Or maybe it wasn't her. Maybe it was the fluid from the perdonie plants or maybe someone had placed a curse on him or maybe--

There were too many 'or maybes'. Always too many. And for the life of him, he couldn't narrow any of them down. That had always been Hermione's job. Harry turned away from looking at Bryn Valfreyja and back to Ron, managing to catch the end of a sentence.

"-- really freaked him. He's not even at dinner tonight." Of course, it sounded more like 'brily feke im. E's nod ev'n ad dinne tonigd.' But Harry understood the basic meaning. He glanced around the tables once, scouting for whoever Ron was talking about and noticed the empty chair where a normally pale eternally angry Potions Master sat.

What had Bryn been doing anyway? What kind of person just touched everybody, proclaiming them 'good'? And why in hell did Snape allow it? If it had been one of them, most likely a hundred points would be off of Gryffindor. It was creepy, creepy and just one more factor in the crazy equation that had been building up.

"And it's only the second day of school." Harry moaned, drowning his woes in a tall glass of pumpkin juice.

The next week passed uneventfully. Bryn followed Harry and Ron closely, so close that both of them had tripped over her a few times. Of course, that also meant they couldn't sneak around. Not like they could with the Aurors jumping at every sound, shooing every student to class on time. There were no more strange encounters with Snape and Bryn hadn't proclaimed anyone else 'good' or 'not as good as Harry Potter' (although, she still called Harry by his full name and he was certain that if she knew his middle name, she'd call him by that too). That was, of course, until Potions class.

The storm that had been brewing still hadn't broken, rolling across the skies in angry grey waves. Harry suspected it was just another thing to make him nervous, considering that he had plenty of time to stare at the ceiling when he didn't eat. Ron was starting to notice and threatened to force-feed him. So now, there were a few pieces of toast floating around in his stomach.

'_You better start eating_,' he reprimanded himself, '_Angelina will kill you if you aren't in shape for Quidditch next week_.'

Oliver Wood, who had been the captain for the previous two years, had graduated two years ago and had been replaced by the sixth year Angelina Johnson, who wasn't quite sure what to do. She'd be a good captain, sure, but after having a year free from Quidditch and no instructor; things were a bit shaky.

Defense Against the Dark Arts had been very odd, with Professor Whitelighter not even showing up and McGonagall came in halfway through, saying that they were to work on whatever homework they had. Filch, the school caretaker, came inside shortly after McGonagall left and watched like a hawk, his cat Mrs. Norris stalking between the desks. It had been a very anxious morning and Potions hadn't even happened yet.

Bryn took a spot in the back for Potions, practically folding in on herself as she sat down. Her face was heart-broken and her hands were clutched tightly in fists around the hem of her robes. Harry was surprised. Considering that stunt she'd pulled with Snape, he figured her to be in the front of class, beaming as the gloomy teacher entered. But that didn't happen.

More surprising though, was when Snape entered. His face had more color than his usual pale mask and there was something glittering in his eyes as he took role call, something suggesting that he was late because of a _very_ good reason. Ron noticed it too, nudging Harry in the ribs.

"Does it bother you that Snape looks like the cat that ate the canary?" Harry gulped as Snape came close to his name, but the teacher didn't even pause longer than for Harry to choke out a 'here!'. However, when he got to Bryn's name and she meekly replied, he acted as if he hadn't heard her.

"Valfreyja, Bryn." He said again, cold eyes glued to the girl sitting in the back of the room. As if gaining some confidence from the ice in his voice and the glare that petrified thousands (although Harry had no _idea_ how that could be possible), Bryn straightened and replied louder.

"Here, Professor Snape." Her voice was loud enough to echo a bit off the stone walls and still Snape gave her a strange look. He beckoned her with a small twitch of his hand.

"Come sit in the front, Ms. Valfreyja, if you will not produce enough effort for me to hear you clearly." And the tiny girl still looked as if she'd found gold at the end of a rainbow, practically skipping to the front to be seated next to Neville. A deep feeling, one that felt like pity, settled into the bottom of Harry's stomach.

Today was going to be a very bad day.

Snape went into a lecture about Veritaserum, the ultimate truth potion, and when he asked for the third main ingredient in the potion (which no one knew), he demanded notes that would be collected at the end of class. Poor Neville looked desperately at Bryn, obviously he didn't have either a quill or parchment. Looking rather confident again, she pulled out her wand.

"What is she doing?" Ron asked in a harsh whisper, still trying to desperately scribble down things that Snape was saying. The teacher purposely had his voice softer than normal; as to make the entire class silent. Quills scratching against parchment made it hard enough to hear. The blonde had her eyes closed and raised her wand.

"Exactly what are you doing Ms. Valfreyja?" The writing stopped and in the dead silence, you could practically hear all the eyes dart forward. Bryn looked completely placid, lowering her wand and giving Snape an odd look. The thin man was bordering on angry. After that, it could only get worse.

Her voice wasn't the normal strained sound when she tried to pronounce her words; instead it was that soft tone she'd used earlier, in the last encounter with the Potions professor. "I'm making two quills and two sheets of paper for me and my partner."

A muscle near Snape's eye twitched and his frown became a scowl. For once, Harry wondered if the teacher would actually hurt a student. There had always been the fear, but no one really thought that he could truly be that mean...

"I don't know what they teach you in Switzerland, Ms. Valfreyja, but we do not perform magic without permission here. Stay after class for your detention." Malfoy snickered from the back of the room and that seemed to break the silence. However, even though the moment had ceased and everything was nice and calm, Bryn muttered beneath her breath.

"I came from Norway." Snape, who seemed to be able to hear a pin drop in China, spun around, eyes flashing. Draco Malfoy's snickering stopped but it was to no avail, the teacher didn't do anything.

"Scale of dragon's tail is used in one-sixteenth of the Veritaserum potion." And Snape continued. But the class was only half listening. Most of them were focused on the girl in the front, listening attentively to Snape, the girl who had gotten away without death.

***

She was left with the thin Potions master, who was writing at his desk. Bryn stood in front of the desk, lightly rocking back and forth on her heels. She would have started to hum, but that most likely would have annoyed him to the point of killing her. So instead, she hummed a song in her head. Staying after class wasn't that big of a bother and of course, she was with him. It wasn't really clear why he appealed to her so. The attraction wasn't sexual at all, but there was something about him, something in those abyss eyes that made her wonder...

"Is this my detention?" She asked, ceasing her rocking and leaning forward a bit. The man stopped writing, mid-letter. Then, he resumed.

"Is what your detention?" His voice was soft and hard, like velvet over steel. The description pleased Bryn and she leaned more forward, trying to catch a bit of the letter he was writing.

"Standing here. They made us do that in Norway. Stand for hours upon end, sometimes even kneeling." She didn't bother to cover up her accent the way she did with the other students. She didn't bother to keep the awe out of her voice or the strange way she said r's or s's or anything. It was nice to talk to someone that she didn't feel the need to hide. "Are you going to give me a detention?"

This seemed to have the desired effect, for the man pushed away from his desk and stood, looking straight at her. Bryn smiled, a healthy sincere smile and crossed her arms. Professor Snape did nothing, blinking a few times but that was the extent of his action.

Suddenly, his face broke and his eyes locked onto hers, with a strange look she hadn't seen before seeping through the edges. That face startled her and Bryn backed away a bit, her hand automatically going to her wand. Professor Snape noticed the movement and his face steeled itself again. He held out his hand and Bryn placed her wand delicately in his hand.

Those deft long fingers quickly ran over the wand, memorizing it and analyzing its structure and purpose. Bryn watched in fascination. Where she used to live, the wands were all created by one man and he only made enough for every new child born in the village. Her wand was created the day she was born and not given to her until her third birthday. Ever since then, it had felt like a part of her. There were legends of some wizards that became symbiotic with their wands and Bryn didn't find that hard to believe. As Professor Snape scrutinized it, she felt herself being picked apart at the seams. It was a horrible feeling.

"Twelve inches, cherry wood... strong yet flexible. Does it had a dragon heartstring core?" He asked, whipping the wand around. Bryn watched him with wide eyes.

"Two. Dragon heartstrings have a specialty for defense against the Dark Arts." She replied, almost stammering. He had better give her her wand back before she had to rip it out of his dead hands. The answer amused him, thin dark eyebrows rising a bit.

"A Double Core is very rare. It can ruin a wizard that doesn't know how to use it properly." It was meant as an insult and Bryn felt it hit dead center. And she couldn't handle it. Why did he have to be so mean? Why couldn't he just be what she knew him to be somewhere? She didn't know how, but Bryn knew that somewhere... this wasn't who he was.

"Is this my detention?" Her voice cracked and she was near tears. It hadn't been a good week. Being the new student was a horrid, horrid thing and it was all... coming... down... "Is this my detention? Being insulted and taken down to... to... to nothing?"

The Potions master did nothing besides hand her back her wand. Then, he turned and sat back down at his desk, picking up the quill to write again. Bryn did nothing; her wand clasped in her hand felt cold and empty.

"Sweep the floor and straighten the desks. That will be your detention." He never looked up at her again.

Bryn set to the simple tasks he asked her to do. A small smile worked back up onto her face. From what Ron and Harry Potter said, he was a very strict teacher and liked cruel and unusual punishments.

__

He likes me; she thought slyly and started humming as she worked.

***

__

The forest was all surrounding. It was dark, the moon only a tiny sliver in the sky. His feet were pounding against the ground as he thundered through the forest. Branches snagged at him and he pushed them out of his way, ignoring the blood.

"Did you find her?" He yelled to his companion, a few feet away. The man shook his head and started running off again. Both were panting loudly.

She didn't know her way around the forest yet. None of them really did. And he'd found her wand in her tent. Everyone was seriously worried.

One of them had stayed back at the camp, in case the missing girl returned. But that was almost a futile ploy. Things were so crazy, so crazy...

There was sobbing from somewhere and his ears perked up. He ran forward, listening not to his thudding feet or his pounding heart, but to the soft almost inaudible sounds.

There was a flash of color and his companion had found her first. She was crying, a large gash in her belly. The other's apprentice was crying onto her wound, desperately trying to heal it. Her smile was sad and she stroked the bird, loving him for his effort.

"She's going to be fine. I'll close it up with a healing spell then let him_ cry a bit more." He nodded, about to settle down and wait for her to be healed when a scream pierced through the sky._

He took off running for the camp.

Harry sat straight up in bed, breathing hard and feeling his clothes sticky with sweat. He could still hear the scream. And it was still screaming.

Slowly, Harry slipped out of bed and grabbed his Invisible Cloak, creeping through the Common Room to the opening. He was going to get out of here and help that girl that was screaming. Those screams sounded so frightened... they made him afraid of whatever she was facing.

But when he opened the portrait a crack, an Auror was standing out there, talking quietly with Professor Dumbledore. Both looked very secretive and Harry wished desperately that he'd brought out his wand to use that spell Flitwick had taught them in Charms, the one to magnify senses. He caught vague phrases, such as 'the Four', 'here', and 'scared'. But nothing larger than that.

The Auror stopped speaking suddenly and turned directly towards the painting. Harry dropped it and prayed that he hadn't been caught. He would be in so much trouble...

With another listen, the screaming had stopped and Harry put it in the back of his mind. Just another freaky dream. Nothing big. God, it was getting that bad. He was still tired and Harry sleepily moved through the Common Room.

That's when he noticed that the fire was burning and there was a figure seated in one of the chairs. He peered forward, trying to get a clearer picture. When the face came into focus, Harry gasped.

It couldn't be...

"Hello Harry."

Continued...

I'm horrible aren't I? Oh well! Deal with it! HAHA! The next chapter will be up soon! Email me at [angelfire2996@yahoo.com][1] or better yet, review in the little box below. ^^*

   [1]: mailto:angelfire2996@yahoo.com



	4. Chapter Three: Hexes, Flying, and Colors

Look! It's my new chapter! Ok, I know you're going to kill me. I'm sorry. With ff.net on constant downs, I didn't know what was a good time to upload. So now is as good as any I guess. Remember that all italics are flashbacks and enjoy! I'm working on Chapter Four which includes the next Quidditch game and Halloween! Yay! If you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask!

Harry Potter and the Liberi Fatali  
Chapter Three: Hexes, Flying and Colors  
*~Charisma~*

_____________________________  
Excitate vow e somno, liberi mei.  
Cunae non sunt.  
Excitate vow e somno, liberi fatali.  
Somnus non eat.

Surgite.  
Invenite hortum veritatis.

Ardente veritate  
Urite mala mundi.  
Ardente veritate  
Incendite tenebras mundi.

Valete, liberi,  
Diebus fatalibus. 

"How how did you get here?" His mind was reeling. Information had to be leaking from somewhere in his head because the scene was just not possible. Harry moved in front of the girl, nervously reaching inside his hastily put on robe for anything to make him feel secure. Alas, there was nothing.

The girl sighed louder than was necessary. "Has anyone other than me read Hogwarts: A History? Before there were any methods of mass transportation, students of Hogwarts had to enter through the Front Gate." A faint blush spread over her cheeks but Harry could hardly see it in the firelight. "The minotaur guarding the Gate was very adamant in restricting me from entering."

Harry stared, trying to reroute that information to the part of his brain that was actually thinking. "What's a minotaur?" _Oh I really don't want to know that_

"You really should know this Harry. A minotaur is a hybrid of human and bull. Although, I don't want to know how exactly that came to pass." She glanced up through lashes, looking not annoyed as her familiar tone suggested but tired, lost and a little scared. Harry was taken aback, feeling awkward with those particular emotions reigning in eyes he had taken for granted as touchstones.

"Is are can you are they going to let you in?" That came out _completely_ wrong. Harry knew his ears would have been burning if it had not been his friend, someone who knew what he was saying even if no one else would. She nodded, looking back down into her hands.

"Professor McGonagall has informed me that I am on a form of probation. I am not to be caught in any compromising situations during the course of a month or I'll be asked to attend another school." Her voice was quiet, soft, and withdrawn. She thought she was getting off easier than she was supposed to. Harry leapt out of the chair. There was no way Dumbledore would only give her one more chance! He'd let a former Death-Eater in Hogwarts for God's sakes, how could it be harder to accept a late honor student?

"I don't believe it Hermione! Professor Dumbledore would have given you a lighter sentence than that" A sudden thought shot through his mind, rage flaring. "Did- did Snape say something that made them-"

"No-no. It was it was quite the opposite. That new teacher, Professor Whitelighter I think it was, wanted to not allow me in school at all. She thought I might have been contaminated or turned or something of the sort. It was Professor Snape that said I should stay, that being in school would be more anguish than being allowed to romp freely at home. That in itself is peculiar, considering all teachers know that I don't mind school one bit." It was more than peculiar, it was more than strange; it just wasn't Snape.

Deciding that his brain would most likely explode, Harry held out a hand to Hermione, smiling a bit. She'd come back. The Trio was once again complete and a wash of ebullience speared through him. "Come on Hermione, school starts early tomorrow."

She nodded; accepting his hand and letting him lead her to the base of the girl's dorm staircase. They bid goodnights. Harry went to bed a bit happier than he had been coming out of his room. But the remembrance of the reason he had gotten out of bed at all rushed over him again. That infernal screaming Harry shut his eyes.

Things couldn't be that bad now, Hermione was back and his two best friends were set again.

That was, of course, before he had class with Professor Wumbrivil.

Bryn didn't have a very nice meeting with Hermione. There was fire and rage sparking as Harry introduced the two. Ron was oblivious to anything as he joyously chatted with Hermione, albeit she was distant in her replies. That left Harry to deal with Bryn, a task he wasn't eager to perform. To make things worse, the unfavorable introduction became a prolonged wretchedness that floated betwixt the female portion of the Quartet. The blonde Norwegian couldn't seem to utter Hermione's name and had taken to calling her Granger'. That upset Hermione to no bounds.

It had been a very grueling morning.

Hermione and Bryn had been practically ripping each other's heads off. Although, Hermione was in a considerably better mood once McGonagall had her in class and fawned over her like she was the Transfiguration teacher's long lost daughter. Bryn was threatened with another detention from Professor McGonagall for inappropriate comments. The Trio, now accompanied by Bryn that seemed to be lagging on Harry's heels even more, headed towards O.W.L.s Prep. Hermione seemed thrilled that Dumbledore had decided to include the class.

"I've already been to the library. The O.W.L.s have been known to be especially tricky with hexes, or so I've heard," she was saying as they entered the class. Professor Wumbrivil looked uncharacteristically calm and mellow, smiling politely at every student who entered. Neville was the last one in, dropping a book from his arms of cluttered things, including the quiescent turtle from Transfiguration that McGonagall had them turning into rabbits.

Wumbrivil picked up a large textbook from under his desk and set it with a grunt on top, then he flipped to somewhere in the middle and opened his mouth to begin reading. Harry almost wished for the insane cheerful teacher back.

Be careful what you wish for was so underrated.

The professor broke out in a huge grin and stepped away from the desk. Then, much to Harry's shock as well as everyone else's from the looks on the collective faces, used his arms to flip himself forward onto the desk. "Ah! Much better! Now, if every one'd put their books away and climb up on your desk."

Reluctantly, the class scrambled onto their desks. Hermione had that expression she'd had last year when she quit Divination and that was the last thing she needed, quitting a class. Harry mostly felt sorry for Neville, for heights didn't seem to agree with him. The red haired teacher, who had his wand whipped out in front of him, cleared his throat, reclaiming the lost attentions.

"O.W.L.s stands for Ordinary Wizard Levels. These are very important tests! They determine not how smart you are, but how prepared you are for life after school!" The whole spiel was said in a voice loud enough to be announcer for a Qudditch game. Hermione looked sick at the mention that O.W.L.s didn't measure brain power. Moving his wand so that it forced the book to hover before him, Wumbrivil glanced back up into the faces of his students and brightened when he locked eyes with Harry. _Oh no_

"Do ya think you can get air sick from standing on desks?" Ron whispered, his wand bobbing as he talked.

"The most common problems on O.W.L.s," Wumbrivil shouted, cutting off any reply Harry had. "Are hexes! Today, the Pungopuniceus Hex is cured with _Abiego_! Repeat!"

"_Abiego!_" Hermione seemed to be the only one who knew what the Pungopuniceus Hex was and said Abiego without any emphasis. The blonde Norwegian struggled with the word, stuttering over the letters and not paying attention to where her wand was pointing. A feeling crept up into Harry's stomach, one that didn't sit well with what was about to happen.

"_Abiungo!_" _Crash!_

Something had definitely gone wrong.

Both Harry and Ron looked over the edge of their desks to see Hermione sprawled on the floor, eyes open wide in a stunned look. Wumbrivil jumped off his desk, muttering something and stood over Hermione.

"Not good, this is not good. _Conferoiterum!_" The professor's robes moved at the right moment (or perhaps, the _bad_ moment) and Harry caught glimpse of Hermione's torso and legs attaching themselves to each other with a loud slurp. Her face was still pale when Wumbrivil helped her up; her eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights.

The bell rang as everyone carefully got off their desks, quieter than when they had entered. Bryn echoed the paleness of Hermione and stood directly behind Harry, her presence only being known by the fact that she had his robes clenched in her fist. Hermione walked wobbly, like her legs weren't responding to her brain that well. All that could be seen of Professor Wumbrivil was his legs, sticking out of the closet behind his desk.

Hermione was feeling much better by the middle of dinner. She had been staring at her food, mindlessly pushing it around until she said something. Harry, who'd been talking to Ron about the Quidditch practice that night, turned towards her.

"What?" His friend's eyes were gone, fixated on some point he didn't know and she moved to look at Harry, a determination settling into her features that Harry had only seen when she had planned out her study schedule for finals.

"She did it on purpose! She knew that _Abiungo_ would separate my body, everybody knows that (Harry didn't think it wise to mention that _he_ didn't know that)!" Hermione stood up and Harry grabbed her robes, pushing her back down into her seat. "You said that she wouldn't leave you alone while I was gone she's jealous that I'm back!"

Not like Hermione at all! Harry stuttered around his plate, picking up his pumpkin juice and taking a big gulp. "She wouldn't do something like that Hermione! Bryn just talks funny, she couldn't pronounce it right today."

"Well," Hermione said in a huff, determined not to be proven wrong in the least. "Professor Wumbreval should make sure we can all _pronounce_ the words before he has us practicing them with our wands."

He didn't catch that she said the professor's name wrong, but if he had, he wouldn't have corrected her anyway.

Angelina caught up with Harry when he was trudging up to the tower after dinner; Ron and Hermione discussing something that he couldn't quite focus on and Bryn still MIA. He felt a bit guilty that he'd barely noticed her missing, but she could probably handle herself at least, that was what Harry was telling himself.

"We had our tryouts for new members on Saturday, since we need a Keeper now that Oliver isn't here and I really wanted some of the younger kids to get on the team. That way, we aren't completely helpless next year when the rest of us, sans you Harry, leave the team." Angelina tried to look happy but by the expression, Harry could tell that tryouts didn't go half as well as she wanted them too. "We'll break in the new Keeper tomorrow along with the other team."

"Other team?"

Angelina glanced back up at the disappearing Gryffindors into their Common Room. "Yeah. I think it'll be best if we have a full back up team so they can learn from us for next year. Most of our practices will be games against each other."

"Oh. So, practice tomorrow?" She nodded and both went through the portrait of the Fat Lady. Quidditch was here at last! Things were usually a lot better when he was flying and Harry couldn't wait.

When he got into his bed, Harry tried not to focus on the previous nights, where that screaming had kept him awake. Or about Potions class on Friday. He tried to remember Quidditch, everything about Quidditch that made it one of the best things that had happened to him.

But all he could remember was Hermione's body slurping back together and her voice, saying, "She did it on purpose!"

***

The rest of the day was a blur to Harry as he prepared for practice that evening. Both Hermione and Ron (and of course, Bryn by default) were going to go with him. Harry wasn't certain _why_ they were going, but he couldn't say he wasn't happy. It hadn't been that great of a summer or school year so far, the previous year's events still haunting the recesses of his mind. Harry tried not to think about why Quidditch had been canceled last year as he strolled onto the field, Firebolt under one arm.

Angelina was talking to a group of mainly third years, but a scattered few of fourth and second. The rest of his team, Chasers Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell, Beaters Fred and George Weasley (briefly, Harry wondered if Ron would try out for the team when they were gone the next year) and what Harry assumed to be the new Keeper, were up in the air, waiting for him and Angelina. He moved to join them, but saw Hermione standing near the trunk that contained the four balls used in Quidditch, arms tightly crossed in front of her.

"Hermione!" She glanced up and smiled, moving forward to meet him. Harry was only slightly disappointed that Ron wasn't behind her. Of course, that was second to the joy of not having Bryn behind her either.

"Hi Harry! Ron and I just arrived; he's up in the stands with our things." Her smile faltered a little. "Bryn is with him."

Harry nodded and tried not to let the strange note of disgust in Hermione's voice affect him. There were always certain people she didn't like very much, but, with the exception of Draco Malfoy, Hermione had never expressed something so close to hatred for another person. She even said that she was too intelligent to judge people by anything other than their deepest self. It was unlike the Muggle-born girl... so unlike her...

"Hermione?" Angelina landed next to the girl and smiled once she confirmed identity. "Hermione! I'm glad you're here! There's nothing that boosts team morale like their own House coming out to watch them. Thanks for coming."  
" I-" But Angelina was all business. Oliver Wood had definitely chosen a good successor.

"Now Harry, this is our QIT," she started, turning back with an arm extended.

" Quit'? Someone's quitting? But Angelina I thought you said that-"

"Not quit Harry. Q. I. T. It stands for Quidditch In Training'. Now they are mostly younger than fifth year, but Dean Thomas, Semperia Dimenticato, and Nunca Erinnert are exceptions." She pointed behind her to Dean and two other girls that Harry had seen, but never seemed to remember their names. Not bothering to wait for any reaction from Harry, Angelina continued. "I guess Wood was training a successor without the rest of us knowing. Ki Ash, a sixth year, showed up on Saturday and he's our new Keeper. Now Harry, I want you to talk to Ash after practice, maybe give him a somewhat newcomer's point of view." Finally, with a bright smile that showed the tension Angelina was already feeling, she finished with, "We'll win championship again this year Harry, I know it."

Harry straddled his broom, the Firebolt he'd gotten two years ago, and felt more than a little uneasy. Maybe it was something he ate, but Harry's stomach started to reject the idea of flying. In fact, just thinking about getting off the ground made his head swim and suddenly, Harry wasn't too stable on his broom. The rest of the team was performing drills in the air above him. Harry glanced up and his stomach violently abandoned any attempt at subtly convincing its owner to get off the broom.

And that didn't seem like such a bad idea. Hermione, who had been trudging up the stairs to the row where Bryn and Ron were seated, raced back down as she saw Harry stumble off the broom. Angelina noticed as well, landing down beside the Seeker, whose bum had decided it would never leave the ground.

"Harry? Harry are you all right?" He wasn't sure who said it, but Harry nodded, finally convincing his mutinous body that he wouldn't make it get back on the broom.

"Angelina I don't think I can fly." She didn't say anything and Harry wondered if maybe he hadn't said it allowed. He glanced at her to see wide eyes and face gone horribly, horribly pale.

"Oh no. This—this isn't good." She wrung her hands together. "I suppose I could get one of the Chasers to be Seeker but they aren't trained for it, and that will mess up the roster you can't fly?"

Harry got back onto the Firebolt and felt the same, upsetting churning in his stomach and throat. More than a little shaky, Harry tumbled off the broom. For some odd reason, his godfather popped up in his head, his fugitive godfather who had somehow managed to get him that extremely expensive broom so that he could just suddenly develop a fear of flying? Hermione had grabbed the broom and was examining it with her familiar scrutiny.

"Do you think it's jinxed? Someone could have gotten a hold of it Harry and put a hex or something of the like that would make you sick. It's a very simple process" She held it out and gingerly straddled the broom. Harry hadn't seen Hermione on a broom since their first year, but the scene was normal, as if she was always on a broom. "Well, I don't feel sick, but"

Harry watched Hermione rise slowly in the air, a smile spreading on her face and tried not to turn green. Just the thought of anyone going up into the air, especially Hermione She flew for a little while, growing more daring as she went higher. He wasn't sure what all she did before she landed, as Harry had turned away from the sight, but Harry knew that look on Angelina's face. It was the same one Snape would get when Neville blew something up in Potions class.

"Hermione, have you ever thought about joining the Quidditch team?"

***

The first game was against Hufflepuff in two weeks, one week before Halloween. Hermione practiced every night and still had time to do the homework that had seemed to dwindle a bit from the previous year. Harry went out every practice to watch Hermione, hating the look of her up so high in the air, but knowing somehow that he was supposed to watch her. Ron hadn't said much when Hermione told him.

"So getting the best grades in the school wasn't enough for you?" The little squabble that caused only lasted a day, as Ron had the brains to apologize. He was still a little upset with Hermione for not telling anyone where she'd been all summer.

Harry was sitting in Divination, listening to Professor Trelawney drone about the upcoming deaths, her favorites for the week being all of the members of the Quidditch team (Harry just thought her still a bit miffed about Hermione dropping from the class), when another flash came upon him.

__

"We're laying the foundation soon, Kakon. The effects of magic on pregnancy aren't fully known yet and I don't want anything happening to that baby." The woman nodded, her white hair shifting in the wind.

"You are dealing with powerful magic. Very powerful. You be careful blå." He watched the two women from behind a tent. He'd been weary of their conversations ever since she had convinced the others to allow the pregnant woman to stay. Something bad was going to happen; he could feel it in his bones.

"You keep calling me that. Blah, what does that mean?" The other woman reached forward, catching a lock of hair between her fingers.

"It is your blue. Blue hair, blue eyes you are very blue." The woman who possessed such blue characteristics laughed and continued writing down in her book.

There was a fluttering of feathers and he hid behind the tent again, straining to hear as the woman dropped her book and most likely gave her new companion that familiar frown.

"Hey, green! Yellow! Red! Someone come get this bird – ouch! Excuse me, phoenix_ before I pluck him clean!" She sighed and apparently speaking to the phoenix, said, "You know you're my favorite pet, but why must you always come around me when I'm busy Fawkes?"_

The world rushed back to Harry as Trelawney was finished her homework assignment. Him and Ron exchanged looks. They had to talk.

To be continued

Did you like it? Email me ( angelfire2996@yahoo.com ) and tell me or review! Chapter 4 coming up soon!


	5. Chapter Four: Getting Permission

Hey! It's me! And look! Not twenty years later on an update! See, I got a laptop and I can take my work everywhere so... tada! Bryn has gone nuts on me, this is not how i wanted this chapter to go. So, Chapter 5 might be short in coming considering I have NO IDEA WHAT I'M GOING TO DO! Expect it eventually... erp.  
Since I'm the author, I'm shamelessly plugging noir, my shrine to Snape. http://snapenoir.envy.nu and asking all who have Snape pics, fics or opinions to mail them to me!! Argh!! I mean, Please? Enjoy!

Harry Potter and the Liberi Fatali  
Chapter Four: Getting Permission   
*~Charisma~*

_____________________________  
Excitate vow e somno, liberi mei.  
Cunae non sunt.  
Excitate vow e somno, liberi fatali.  
Somnus non eat.

Surgite.  
Invenite hortum veritatis.

Ardente veritate  
Urite mala mundi.  
Ardente veritate  
Incendite tenebras mundi.

Valete, liberi,  
Diebus fatalibus. 

After Harry told Ron what the flashback (if it _was_ a flashback) entailed, he waited for a response as Ron leaned back further into one of the many red chairs scattered in the Common Room. Ron scratched his ear and frowned, finally shaking his head slowly.

"So whoever these people are that you're dreaming about have Dumbledore's bird. Did they _have_ Fawkes or are they _going_ to have him? I don't know Harry it could mean anything I don't think a lot of people would have phoenixes, and if they did, not a lot would name them Fawkes." Ron bit his lip, his eyes taking on that inward stare for a moment. "At the risk of sounding too much like Hermione, do ya think we could find something on Fawkes in the library?"

Harry stared at Ron.

The redhead blushed and stood up. "Yeah, yeah, we've _got_ to stop hanging around each other so much."

The library proved useless. Of course, that was most likely due to the fact that both Harry and Ron had very poor book searching skills. Harry grimaced as he turned pages in a book and jumped when Ron slammed a fairly large gold and red book beside him.

"Any luck?" Ron asked, his hunter green eyes telling that if Harry did, it'd be ten times better than what he'd found. Harry held up the book in his hands.

"I found a whole book on phoenixes, but it only mentions Fawkes' name once, and that's as Dumbledore's bird in the Famous Phoenixes' section." Ron let the book he was holding fall open and pointed to a picture. A man with crimson hair, glowing red eyes and a smile that made Harry feel brave again stood in the center of the page, surrounded by text and a large bird that flew in front of him, occasionally opening its beak at the reader.

"That's Godric Gryffindor. Says that he and the other Founders had a mutual pet phoenix but that's all. I don't know about life spans, but I don't think it's Fawkes." Harry sighed and closed the huge book Ron had brought and his smaller book. The corridor, empty but with Aurors running rampant somewhere, seemed colder than before. "We should bring Hermione by, Harry. No doubt she'll find twenty books we've missed."

Glancing around him and noticing for the first time that neither his shadow nor Hermione were with them, Harry felt a bit guilty. "Where _is_ Hermione? Or Bryn, for that matter."

***

"This is just the sort of thing that's gotten us in trouble before. I think Harry and Ron's need to break the rules is rubbing off on you." Hermione stopped walking and leaned against a wall, crossing her arms.

"We're not going to get into trouble _Granger_," Bryn bit out, glancing down the corridor. "We're just going to the bathroom. There's not much harm in that." At Hermione's glance, "All right, we're not going to the bathroom. But there's something down here, can't you feel it? Something important"

"Well of course, the Ravenclaw Common Room entrance is around here." She let out a yelp, a hand flying to her throat. Bryn, trying to be indifferent but failing, stepped closer to her unwilling partner in crime.

"What is it?" Hermione's eyes had widened considerably and it made Bryn more than a little uncomfortable.

"I... I shouldn't know where Ravenclaw's Common Room is. The entrances are hidden from all except those in that House." Bryn watched Hermione lean against a wall, pressing a hand to her forehead.

"Then how did you know where it was?"

Hermione jumped from the wall, stalking forward. "That's just it! I don't know! I'm... I'm so confused. Let's go back up to _our_ Common Room... Please." For once, the blonde didn't argue and they made their way back up the stairs.

Ron and Harry didn't meet up with the two girls until dinner, and then Harry was hesitant to say anything with all those people around. Finally, over custard, Ron spilled and Bryn told the boys her and Hermione's own little adventure. Both duos sat, stunned, and processed the information.

"Well," Hermione started slowly, poking her custard more forcefully with her fork. "We go to Hogsmeade in two weekends where I know there is a library. We can look up more about phoenixes. You do know that the reason you couldn't find a lot about those birds is that most of those books are in the Restricted Section, which means that-"

"-that there is something secret we aren't supposed to know about that will end up being vital to whatever is going on." Harry finished with a sigh. Why couldn't things just be simple for once?

Bryn was looking thoughtful, having formed her mashed custard into a rather good sculpture of Hermione's cat, Crookshanks. "What exactly is the Restricted Section?"

"It means we aren't allowed to use any of the books without a teacher's permission. And the only time we got permission was from some dunderhead two years ago." Ron had tried to make Snape's face with a giant snake eating him. It turned out to be oddly shaped like Africa with Madagascar way out of proportion.

The girl with long white hair looked up from her art piece and grinned. "I believe I can get us permission."

The original Trio frowned at each other; this couldn't be good.

"From who, exactly?"

Bryn just smiled.

***

"How did I get volunteered for this again?" Bryn was leading the way down to the dungeon, where Snape's office was located. After confirming that Bryn was indeed the lunatic they all thought she was, they determined that if Snape was to -oh say- _murder_ Bryn, there had to be a witness. So a game of Exploding Snap was played and the loser had been picked to go with Bryn. And Harry was usually so good at that game.

"You lost three times in a row to both Ron and Hermione Harry Potter, I believe that is why you are with me." It wasn't the only reason. Hermione had been paired off with Bryn earlier and Ron didn't have a good reputation for keeping his mouth shut around Snape. Both of Harry's former friends hadn't been lax to point out that he had the Invisibility Cloak either, stating how useful it would be.

Harry didn't bother to tell Bryn it was a rhetorical question. She'd obviously been born in a place where no one was bad and they all routinely got together for singing or something. It was a good way to get her killed, being around him wasn't making it any better.

The boy frowned. When had he gotten so bitter?

"Wait wait!" Bryn hissed, tightening her grip on Harry's arm. "Look! There's someone going into Professor Snape's office!"

Sure enough, a dark cloaked figure slipped through the door, leaving it open enough that when Harry and Bryn came closer, they could see into the office and hear every word.

Snape had been grading papers, probably the quiz on magical viruses that Harry had failed, but was now standing behind his desk, ridged as ever. The expression on his face wasn't the normal one of dislike, or that utter hatred when he saw Sirius, but more of a... well more of a sadness.

"Aren't you going to offer me a seat Severus?" That voice was the one who had gotten Harry and Ron off the hook when they first decided to sneak out of the Common Room. It was also the voice of their MIA Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Whitelighter. She sat without being invited to.

"I had hoped you wouldn't be staying that long." There was that bitter ol' Snape Harry had come to know. But he still sounded sad, disappointed. It was definitely unnerving. Bryn was motionless beside him, caught in rapt attention with the conversation.

There was a strange tone to Whitelighter's voice. "Severus..."

Snape sat down, folding his hands across his desk. "I am a very busy man Professor Whitelighter. Do you need something?"

"What do you think I came down here for Severus?" Angry, and hurt. _Well_, Harry thought, _what did you expect from Snape_?

"I do not know. But I hope it isn't for something trivial-" Whitelighter stood, bursting out.

"Since when has anything between us ever been trivial?! I had thought my being here would help! Albus had said you were being reclusive and the last time I talked to Amaryllis she said-"

"DO NOT MENTION THAT NAME!" The voice was thundering and Bryn jerked back, almost making Harry fall. He grabbed her and they both tried to subside anything that threatened to burst out.

Both teachers were standing. Whitelighter had taken off her Auror's hood and revealed her long white hair with a face too young to have those old blue eyes. Snape looked like hell in black, fists clenched into white balls at his sides. Harry was immensely glad neither of them had their wands.

"What name Severus? Amaryllis? She was my friend too; I can mention her name as often as I wish. You can't go on living in the past anymore. It's over. James is dead. Hilde is still listed as missing but we both know she's dead too. Amaryllis is- We are the only ones alive but that's not who we are Severus!"

"Do you still have it?" Whitelighter was so taken aback that she sat down hard, shaking the chair. Snape stared at her, his glare melting her bones or at least it should have been.

" It'? It' as in... No! No of course not, it left when you..." Whitelighter let her gaze drift to the floor, hands pulling at the sleeves of her cloak.

"I still do." Snape whispered, leaning forward. "I still have it and I can't forget James (the way he said it, Harry knew Snape was talking about his father), I can't forget Hilde, I can't forget Amaryllis, I can't forget you and I can't forget anything that happened while it's still inside me. Don't lecture me Karina, don't lecture me and don't try to help me. Stay at Hogwarts as long as you wish, for I cannot make you do otherwise, but leave me alone."

The woman had stood, backing away from Snape and staring at him with despair, sympathy and anguish riddling her eyes. Harry managed to move himself and Bryn out of her way before Whitelighter practically ran out the door.

Snape stood in the doorway, looking after the long gone teacher. His face was expressionless, but his eyes held so much that Harry couldn't begin to decipher all that was in there. He glanced down, at the exact place Harry and Bryn stood, before a strangled noise left his throat and he turned back into his office, slamming the door shut.

Harry dragged Bryn to the edge of the stairs and tried to get her up them. It was rather difficult since she was impersonating a rock. Her face hadn't turned from the slammed door.

"Come on Bryn!" He hissed, pulling on her arm. "There isn't any way we'll get permission tonight!"

"I'm going in there."

She'd gone bloody nuts. That was the only explanation.

"What?! What are you thinking?! Snape will murder you!" Bryn darted out from beneath the Invisibility Cloak before he could stop her. "Bryn!"

All he could do was sit on the steps and wait.

***

Bryn raised her hand to the wooden door, frowning and knocking lightly. She was starting to regret her rash decision. Perhaps Harry Potter had been right in trying to prevent her coming. There was no answer at the door.

"Professor Snape?" But she had to press onwards, had to do what she knew was right. Back home, you wouldn't leave someone upset. Professor Whitelighter had done just that. Of course, Ron had said that Professor Snape was always upset.

There was no answer again.

"Professor Snape? I need to ask you a question about Potions." Her feet got uneasy and she began shifting weight from side to side. Surely he was still inside his office. She'd just seen him slam the door and there was no way he'd have been able to leave.

There was still no answer.

"Professor Snape! I found Harry Potter in the girl's bathroom." She heard faintly a sound of protest from the invisible Harry but it was drowned out by the sound of the door creaking open.

Professor Snape stood glowering in the entry way to his office. Bryn swallowed a few times and put most of her effort into not backing away. "What is it Ms. Valfreyja?"

"I-I was having a problem with some of the homework you gave us." A lie of course. A line appeared between his dark eyebrows.

"Hermione Granger is in your dormitory. Any troubles you have I'm sure she could help you with." Bryn wasn't very familiar with sarcasm, but she could detect it in his voice, which meant it was fairly heavy.

"But I don't like her." It jumped out of her mouth before she could think a better excuse. It was a mild bit of truth, considering Bryn and Granger didn't get along very well, but it wasn't completely true. 

There was a searching look on Professor Snape's face, one that should have been (according to Harry, Ron and Hermione) disgusted. To any other student, he would have told them off about it being their problem. Bryn was beginning to think that perhaps the Potions Master tolerated her a bit more than the others. Maybe because they were both outcasts. Maybe it was something else...

"I don't blame you Ms. Valfreyja. Ms. Granger is intelligent, but she can become quickly vexatious." Bryn smiled and both stood silently for a few moments. _Perhaps_...

"I forgot my book. If you have a copy, I could show you what I am having trouble with." The professor looked at her, seemingly judging if her reasons sincere and her person worthy. Finally, he swept back his robes and allowed Bryn to pass under his arm. For being fifteen, she really was quite short.

Professor Snape pulled a book off the shelves behind him and set it down on his desk. Bryn searched for the chair Professor Whitelighter had used to sit on, but it was no where to be seen. A closer inspection of the floor revealed tiny wood fragments. Bryn swallowed the lump that had built up in her throat.

__

I guess I'm standing.

"It was on..." She looked at the book in front of her. Considering what she'd been involved in, there hadn't been any time to even crack open the book and she had no clue what to fake as having a problem in. The pages fell through her hands and she stopped on a rather interesting drawing. It showed a man ripping what looked like a wolf's skin off his back. " Wolfsbane Potion'." She read the title of the page.

"I can understand why, since that is a hundred pages past your homework and by itself a potion only few can make." Bryn tried not to bite her lip and stared at the picture. There had to be an answer that would get that growing look of anger off Professor Snape's face.

"I saw that Granger was ahead of the class to this section and I didn't want her to be better than me." The lies got a bit easier, but still hurt to tell them. Professor Snape accepted her excuse with what was beginning to look like pleasure.

To her great surprise, Professor Snape stood and left his office through the door connecting to his classroom. He returned a few moments later, carrying a cauldron and setting it on the floor. Bryn hadn't realized that she scooted so her back was pressed against the bookshelf behind her.

"If you are so eager to be ahead, Ms. Valfreyja, then you need to have kinetic experience." He thrust a bag of something into her hands and pointed to his desk. "Shred these."

So Bryn, flabbergasted and somewhat scared, shredded what she later learned was lunacticite picked during a new moon. Professor Snape walked her through creating the wolfsbane potion, omitting the names of quite a few ingredients, telling her that she shouldn't know exactly how to make such a powerful potion. When the potion was finished, he made her bottle it up in strangely shaped vials. The cauldron they had used was disgusting and when she inquired as to if she'd be made to clean it, Professor Snape only replied that it would make a terrific detention.

Bryn sat on the floor, looking up at the teacher who had reclaimed his chair at the desk. She was supposed to leave now, because he had finished helping her with her homework'. But the real reason she came was still hidden. For most of the time she had entered his office, Bryn had been lying, now, she figured that the truth would be best.

"Professor Snape I... I heard your conversation with Professor Whitelighter." There. She's said it. Now all she had to do was wait for her head to explode so she could move on to the afterlife.

When nothing happened, Bryn dared to crack open one eyelid and saw that Professor Snape hadn't gotten out his wand and turned her into a worm, but instead formed an inner gaze, where he couldn't see anything that was present in the room. There was the sadness on his face again. The one that had left when he had been dabbling in his passion. The one that Professor Whitelighter had invoked.

"And you decided that you'd try to see if you could get any more out of the poor old Potions Master did you? Well then, let me tell you something worth going back to your friends for-" Bryn stared at him, horrified. This had not worked out at all!

"No! That's not it at all! I just... I..." She looked down at the floor, not being able to handle his scalding eyes anymore. "I didn't want you to be sad anymore."

The professor said nothing, so Bryn spoke up before he could. She wouldn't let him think anything bad anymore.

"There so many people in the world who have true happiness. They can't accept that they are truly happy, so they obsess over the little things in their lives. That is how most people are, with a few who can actually see that happiness and those few use it.

"Then there are people who have a very deep sadness in them but that sadness is so overwhelming and they bury it so deep, these people appear naive, and ignorantly happy.

"And there are a few people like Harry Potter, where the sadness is real and living inside just underneath the surface. These people try to be happy, they try to fight that sadness inside them but it still peeks through sometimes.

"Lastly, there are people like you Professor Snape. People who have the same real and living sadness inside them like Harry Potter but they decide to deal with it by giving that sadness to others. They try to get rid of that sadness by giving it to others. But that doesn't work, and those people only end up confused and bitter.

"I don't want you to be one of those people."

Professor Snape had changed while she was talking, his face coming to one of understanding.

"You're an empath." It was a whisper, an almost curse word. Bryn could understand why.

"Only partially. If I were more, I have no doubt I'd have gone insane." She dared to glance back up at the professor, who seemed frozen above her. "So you understand why I want you to be happy. Sadness is such a harsh emotion to feel all the time."

"Empaths will do anything to control the emotions around them." Bryn nodded, folding her hands in her lap.

"I will help in any way I can. It's- what I'm supposed to do." Professor Snape had sat back in his chair, folding his long hands in front of him and looking very much like he did during class.

"Then listen."

So Bryn listened.

***

__

"You aren't planning to do it anytime soon, are you?" She was very worried, he could tell. Her voice quivered and her hands clutched her stomach. He patted her head.

"No. We've too much to do before that big of an operation. Don't worry about it." The woman nodded and headed back into the tent.

He stroked his stubble of a beard and turned to see one of his companions, smiling that huge grin she always had.

"You look positively delighted." She laughed and threaded her arm through his.

"I am positively delighted. You know how **he** has been hesitant to take any part in planning the future of... What are we calling it?" He shrugged, leading them towards the clearing they had made.

"Haven't decided yet. Kakon thought it should be an inside joke of a name. I think it should be something noble." The girl laughed again.

"You always do. Anyhow, he has come up with an idea for us to have competitions and I think it's delightful."

His back hurt and lying in bed shouldn't have made his back hurt. Harry managed to open one eye and take a look around. The reason for his back hurting became apparent.

Sleeping on stairs was never a good idea.

Harry glanced down at his watch. It was about thirty minutes before breakfast. He wanted to pull up his covers and hide until lunch. Of course, he didn't have covers.

The stairs let him leave their grasp and he studied his surroundings more carefully. He was on stairs, sure, but where?

"Oh bloody hell." The dungeon. He was still in the dungeon! If he was still in the dungeon, that meant that Bryn was...

"He's killed her. He's gone off his rocker and killed her." Harry stumbled towards Snape's office door and opened it slowly. It would be almost ironic if he died from a teacher gone nuts. He peeked inside, grimacing at whatever sight he'd see.

Bryn was propped up in the corner of the room, head slumped forward. Harry glanced around the room. Snape had his head down on his desk, apparently asleep. Slowly, Harry pulled out his wand and whispered the levitation spell. Bryn rose a few inches off the ground and followed him out of the room.

They were halfway up the stairs when Bryn suddenly sat up, letting out a small scream. Harry couldn't help but yelp and both tumbled back down the stairs. The blonde had landed sprawled on Harry and it didn't help his back any.

"Harry Potter?" He clasped a hand over her mouth and shook his head, motioning towards the top of the stairs. They climbed once again, this time under the protection of Harry's Invisibility Cloak. Once they got to the top, Bryn turned on him again. "What are you doing?"

"What am _I_ doing? What were _you_ doing?! I thought Snape had turned you into some human sacrifice!" Bryn looked shocked and laughed, heading back to the Gryffindor Common Room.

"Nothing bad happened. I just fell asleep." She said after a while, pausing in the middle of the stairs. Harry just looked at her and frowned.

"I'm just glad you got out of there alive. Going down there was a waste." Harry moved past her on the stairs. She grabbed his arm and smiled, pulling something out from her robes.

"Not a complete waste." Bryn handed him the paper and Harry felt a reluctant grin spread over his face.__

I, Professor S. Snape, give my permission for Bryn Valfreyja and company to use any book located in the Restricted Section of the library.  
Severus Snape

To be continued...

Good ne? I know I promised Halloween and the next Quidditch match but... this popped up. Bryn is taking me for a spin If you are confused, don't worry: IT IS TO BE EXPECTED!! hehe  
Anywho, review! Or send me email! angelfire2996@yahoo.com


	6. Chapter Five: Confrontations and Revelat...

Alright, so here's Chapter 5. It's kind of a boring chapter, but it has vital info in it. Chap 6 & 7 will come rather quickly, since I know exactly what will happen in them. I hope you like this chapter and be sure to review! Oh yeah, here's shameless plug: www23.brinkster.com/notuslethe is my Alexei Yagudin site and www28.brinkster.com/severussnape is my, well Shrine to Severus Snape.Visit!

And Above all: read this story and ENJOY!

Harry Potter and the Liberi Fatali  
Chapter Five: Confrontations and Revelations  
*~Charisma~*

_____________________________  
Excitate vow e somno, liberi mei.  
Cunae non sunt.  
Excitate vow e somno, liberi fatali.  
Somnus non eat.

Surgite.  
Invenite hortum veritatis.

Ardente veritate  
Urite mala mundi.  
Ardente veritate  
Incendite tenebras mundi.

Valete, liberi,  
Diebus fatalibus. 

They found Ron first, and he was stunned but excited. The four of them would have to go to the library after class! Hermione appeared at breakfast, but she shook her head when asked to come with them.

"I have Quidditch practice! Our first game is next Saturday and Angelina would kill me if I missed practice." Her eyes dropped down to her plate. "You guys go ahead without me. Tell me what you find."

Despite Bryn's obvious approval of that situation, she didn't say a word. Harry sat down beside Hermione, nudging her with a smile. "What we would find would be absolutely nothing. Ron and me have already shown we can't find a bloody thing in the library. Bryn can barely speak English, I don't think she'll be that great at reading it."

"Hey!" Ron clamped a hand over the blonde's mouth and watched Hermione for any sign. Slowly, her head came back up, her eyes glittering.

"We can go first thing Sunday. Angelina said we would have that day off." From the glint in her eye, Hermione was already calculating. "Once I show you guys how to look for things with a simple spell, you'll be experts in the library."

Judging by the looks on Ron and Bryn's faces, they were as thrilled as he was.

***

He'd left an argument between Ron and Hermione about what exactly a Chocolate Frog was made out of. Bryn had wisely stayed out of the conversation and, with a waggle from Harry's eyebrow, had not followed Harry back to the Common Room. Class would be starting soon, which one Harry wasn't sure, but he did _not_ feel like attending. Sleeping on stairs would do that to you.

The hallway that turned into the long rows of portraits was just around the corner when voices stopped Harry's feet.

Oh God, not Snape again. The next time to see Snape was Friday, and he never wanted to see him besides class ever again. Thankfully, the voices were revealed to not be Snape or any other teacher, for that matter.

"You haven't told them anything, have you?" At once, Harry turned on his heel and was prepared to march right back down the hall. Too many blasted things were going on already, he didn't need to get involved in any thing else.

"I haven't said a word Cho." And abruptly, he stopped. It had to be Cho, didn't it? It had to be his all-time crush that he'd had so little time for this year. Harry peeked around the corner to see Cho standing with her back against a wall, her brother across the way, arms folded over his chest. He sure did look old for an eleven-year-old.

Cho nodded, mostly to herself, and started pacing in front of her brother, folding her arms across her chest. Her face looked closed in, as if some heavy weight was pressing down on her. It made Harry's chest constrict and he frowned, regretting that he didn't have his invisibility clock with him.

"That's good. That's good Li. I couldn't handle if if they found out" Abruptly, she glanced up, searching the halls. Harry froze; he hadn't made a sound but it seemed as if Cho was being extra paranoid. The little boy stepped forward, drawing his older, taller sister into a hug.

"Don't worry about it Cho." She knelt and wrapped her arms around him, taking more comfort than the little boy was willing to offer. Suddenly, a hand clamped down on his shoulder and Harry whirled around.

"Such a touching scene, isn't it?" And it could only have been the sneer retort of Draco Malfoy, devoid of his gangly bodyguards. He looked more vulnerable, hair so blonde it mocked white and stance not as tall as Harry, who'd grown over the summer.

"What do _you_ want?" He didn't feel like dealing with Malfoy. In fact, he felt like calling up Hermione and having her use some ancient hex on the boy. And Harry would never_ ever_ use one of the Forbidden Curses on any living being but Malfoy _almost_ deserved it

A look of mock surprise filled the other's face. "Can I not speak with a fellow classmate? Or are you above me Harry Potter'?" The name was shredded through that voice.

"Even Crabbe and Goyle are above you' Malfoy." So tired of fighting, of bickering.

Something flashed through steel grey eyes, something hard and hurt, something Harry didn't see in Malfoy. "Things aren't always as they seem Potter," Malfoy uttered darkly, turning away and vanishing into the shadows.

"No," Harry said to the darkness, pointing a finger in the general direction of the now gone Malfoy. "No. You aren't going to add to my problems!"

But the blonde boy was gone. Cho and her brother seemed to have Disapperated although that was impossible in Hogwarts, and Harry was alone. Alone. That was rare. He couldn't ever be alone again. Ghosts, ones he couldn't see, flitted about Hogwarts constantly; the portraits watched him. There were more students in the school than he could count, a bit less than a fourth living only a few handbreadths away. Harry considered that he would be contacted about not attending class; McGonagall might actually come personally with everything that had happened. But that didn't really matter. Everything was fading into a black whirlpool.

People could deal with their own damn problems. He had enough.

* * *

That attitude lasted long enough to get him to the fat lady. She was dozing off, her pink dress glittering with the gleam of the yearly cleaning. There was something about her that he never noticed before. Not anything that Harry could actually put his finger on, but a sort of respect. The thought turned in his mind until it actually became a coherent idea. Of course, why hadn't he thought of it before?

"Excuse me," he poked the picture and the fat lady abruptly woke up, startled out of her sleep. She was elder, distinguished. She stared at him, looking a bit nervous.

There was a long pause. "I'm familiar with the older children dear, but I really can't let you in without the password."

"I don't want to be let in." She quivered, hands clasping in front of her.

"Then what do you want?" Harry felt his knees bend as he sat down in front of the painting.

"Who painted you?" There was surprise on the distinctively blurry face, but the fat lady soon settled into a sort of pleased bounce.

"Alexei Hufelpuf. He was the only offspring of the Great Four who built Hogwarts. Helga Hufflepuff's son." Harry frowned. Hadn't someone along the line said Voldemort was related to Salazar Slytherin? Was that a lie?

"Who are you a portrait of?" The fat lady smoothed her dress out, smiling an old lady smile. That was probably the smile a grandmother would give, but Harry didn't have any grandmothers, so he didn't know.

"Helga Hufflepuff, in her elder years." The answer floored him. People in photographs were the real people, so did that mean that people in paintings

"So are you Helga Hufflepuff?" The fat lady laughed, a large hand coming up to her throat. Harry stood, confused.

"Goodness no! Paintings aren't the same as photographs dearie. Photographs are a perfect duplicate of a real person. Paintings always have some minor imperfection. Thus, I am myself, a version of Helga Hufflepuff, but not the woman herself." The fat lady looked positively delighted. Obviously, no one had thought much of talking to the portrait, merely using her as the entrance to the Gryffindor Common Room.

"When did you become the entrance to the Gryffindor Common Room? And why?" It would have made more sense for her to be the entrance to the Hufflepuff Common Room, wouldn't it? Harry tried to direct his questioning a bit more, determined to go somewhere with the mini-interrogation.

"The House Wars, called Inter-House Championship nowadays, were started four years after the beginning of Hogwarts. At first, there was only one Common Room. It was the back half of the Great Hall, which wasn't the Great Hall back then. But there became tension among the Houses. Fights broke out in the middle of the night. It was Rowena, Rowena Ravenclaw that is, who contrived the idea of separate Common Rooms. Salazar, Salazar Slytherin, suggested to hide all the entrances. In the older days, there were many problems that turned into the things you see today. Why, the staircases never moved, but Salazar again suggested that they did, for a Treasure Hunt that had been part of the yearly Games."

Harry tried to be polite. "That's well and good, but what does that have to do with you becoming the entrance for Gryffindor?"

The fat lady seemed a little perturbed by Harry's interruption, straightening out her dress. "I was coming to that. You see; all Common Rooms were to be secret, so they needed a secret entrance. By this time, Alexei, Helga's son, was twelve and painted a picture of his mother in her elder days. Me. Helga did not approve and hated the picture. But Godric, Gryffindor you know, loved it and decided to make me his secret entrance. That is how I became your Common Room entrance." She seemed proud, but Harry didn't know what for. It didn't seem like a thing to be especially proud of.

"That's very interesting." Polite, must be polite Harry. If this one painting knew so much, what did the others know? The others who had been there longer perhaps he could find out about Voldemort's time at school, or the strange thing that was happening to him or a phoenix named Fawkes or—

Harry cut himself off. He'd go into or' overdrive if he didn't stop. Why hadn't he thought of it before? Come to think of it, why hadn't _Hermione_ thought of it before? She was the brains, wasn't she? The fat lady cleared her throat. Oops, lost in inner dialogue.

"Oh. Uhm, are there any paintings as old or older than you?" Should he call her something? Helga-Clone? Perhaps avoiding a name was the best thing to do.

"I believe there is one older. Yes, only one older. It was the first painting every put in Hogwarts. Godric had gotten it into his head that the Four should do a self-portrait. The painting is a full length of all four of them together. They weren't the best of artists, but it is truly a wonderful painting." Harry's heart pounded in his chest. If he could find a painting of the Founding Four and they talked like the fat lady talked then he could find out so much

"Oh thank you! Thank you so much!" Tempted to hug the painting, but that would have been a fairly odd thing to do. Instead, Harry contented with putting his hand to the painting's hand. The fat lady smiled, the grandmother smile again. Maybe the fat lady wouldn't be just a source of information.

There was a noise and it was three Aurors, prowling around the corner. They found Harry and apprehended him, demanding to know why he wasn't in class. Harry felt a little queasy being around them, too reminiscent of dementors, but he swallowed and merely said,

"I got lost."

Surprisingly, the Aurors didn't argue.

* * *

Hermione was pale faced and frozen when she entered the Common Room and found Harry nestled in one of the armchairs. But she was quickly pushed aside by an impatient Ron and a meek Bryn. Ron looked positively thrilled, as if Harry's cutting class had just paved way for a year of cutting classes. Hermione remained motionless at the entrance, mouth slightly ajar.

"What did I miss?" His voice betrayed his uneasiness and Ron's smile faded. In truth, Harry was about as willing to cut classes as Hermione was. There were too many things in his life that were hectic; he didn't need bad grades on top of that.

"History of Magic at its worst. I think Binnes has gotten more boring than last year, if that's even possible!" With the talk of school, Hermione was reanimated and marched over to Harry's chair, nearly knocking Bryn off her perch.

"Harold James Potter, how can you possibly miss class?!" It wasn't as if Hermione, missing the first two weeks of school, had any room to talk, but Harry conceded to her scolding. It felt good. Normal. "We've got a project due at the end of the semester. It's going to be half our grade Harry! Professor Binnes gave out assignments today."

Ron flopped on the couch next to Harry, frowning a bit. "Research on the Founding Four. I got blasted Slytherin. Hermione's already got a researching schedule around her Quidditch, doncha?"

Based on the reddish tint to Hermione's cheeks, Ron was correct. Harry grinned. Haughtily, Hermione reared back into the conversation. "I do, and _that_ means _I'll_ be getting a good grade, unlike _you_. You've got Gryffindor Harry; only two other people were assigned him."

"Yeah, Seamus and-"

"Me." The white haired girl who had previously been quiet ruined the blessed silence with that single word. Harry slowly rolled his eyes over to her and fighting futilely to suppress the sigh threatening to escape. Bryn looked ill, her pale skin bordering on translucent and blue eyes so large in her face, the whites of her eyes were almost gone. Broaching that subject, he didn't feel a hundred percent either. When was the last time he had eaten?

Hermione bristled, catching the time and pulled Harry up out of the chair. "Come on Harry, if we don't hurry, we're going to miss our next class."

Not all that reluctantly, Harry allowed himself to be dragged along, Ron moping behind them.

* * *

Sunday didn't come quickly enough. All week, his teachers had been complaining about his lack of concentration and much to his chagrin, Bryn and himself had each had twenty-five points taken away by Snape. Apparently, he'd reconsidered his mercy for Bryn barging into his office and took it out on the both of them. How the man had deduced that Harry had been involved was beyond him, but Harry had purposely acted out in Potions class. Albeit ten points later, Harry felt more than a little smug.

Not to mention the fact that Bryn had turned into a mute, glumly following Harry and his friends around the school. Neither Hermione nor Ron paid much mind, and Harry wished he could ignore her too. She didn't fit into their trio; she was an outsider, the one who didn't belong. Perhaps it was that Harry had had that feeling too many times himself to willingly foist it onto another. Besides, wasn't it Bryn who had braved the dark evil caverns of Snape and gotten permission to check out the Restricted Section?

Speaking of Bryn, the tiny white-haired girl was waiting in the Common Room, swinging that gold necklace of hers. It had a tiny teardrop shaped opal that slid along the chain and she often fiddled with it. She seemed enraptured and Harry really wasn't up for conversation. Deciding it was against his better health to head downstairs without backup, Harry snuck back into the dorm and roused Ron. The boy sat straight up and knocked heads with Harry.

"Ow!" The bed sunk beneath his weight as Harry flopped next to Ron. "Ow."

"Sorry." A strange lilt in Ron's voice made Harry sit back up, staring intently at his friend. Ruddy freckles in sharp relief against his pallid face, the pupil of his eyes so big there was only a ring of green and a fine trembling ran through his body. Harry stiffened, alarmed.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Ron pulled back into himself, loosing the galaxies he was away. With a quick shake of his head, everything disappeared. The familiar quirky grin flashed over his face.

"I love Sundays Harry. Let's to the library." The last was said with deflating enthusiasm. Façade back in place, Ron got dressed and headed downstairs, but Harry was slow to follow. What was happening to everyone?

* * *

With a loud thud, Hermione set three more books down in front of Bryn, Ron, and Harry. All three groaned in protest. A mischievous grin spread over Hermione's face as she said the spell to find the word phoenix in the book. She was enjoying the library outing no doubt, as well as the discomfort of those around her.

"Anyone find anything?" Ron whined, obviously wanting to do _anything_ other than the task at hand.

"Nope."

"Ikke." The other three decided to ignore Bryn's Norwegian slip and continue pouring over the monstrous pile of books Hermione had managed to find. It was truly amazing how that girl could find a book in the library. She should grow up to be a librarian, if she wasn't so smart.

With an almost squeak, Ron jumped up from his book. "I think I found something!" The others quickly moved next to him, limbs akimbo. Once the group was settled, Ron began reading aloud. " The life span of a phoenix is determined by its familiar. Phoenixes are much too powerful to live in their complete form their entire life. To counteract the extreme deterioration that accompanies the vast amount of power, phoenixes develop (over time) a familiar. This familiar, which appears in a variety of forms, absorbs excess power and stores it until there is use. Then, the phoenix and familiar will reunite and the familiar, not being an actual creature, will disappear. A phoenix's life span depends on how well the familiar is developed and how much power it contains.'"

There was a long dead silence. Finally, Hermione, who had been rustling around, spoke up. She was always the one who provided little quirks of insight.

"So your phoenix might still be around Harry. If it has a well-developed familiar, that is." Harry traced the drawing in the book with his finger. There was something he wasn't getting, something that was tugging at the back of his mind. He voiced his concerns.

Ron pretty much managed to sum it up. "It's Hogwarts, Harry. I'd get worried if things _were_ making sense."

* * *

The next Saturday arrived without any major accidents. Actually, Hermione alone had managed to glean fifty points for Gryffindor. Ron had grumbled about it only being because she was McGonagall's favorite but he didn't really mean it. The points that Harry and Bryn had lost were going to be hard to earn back. Although, that new Gryffindor, Emma MacNeill, had been earning points like crazy with Professor Flitwick. Bryn knocking over a vial of some purplish liquid and not being punished for it was the only weird incident involving Snape.

Harry climbed down the stairs to the Common Room, stretching stiff back muscles. He was used to getting up early on Saturdays. Of course, that was a rather moot point now, considering that he wasn't on the Quidditch team anymore. He didn't need to get up early.

To his surprise, there was already someone up and sitting in the Common Room, facing the fireplace. As he walked closer, he saw long bushy hair that gleamed a familiar ochroid sheen. Harry felt a grin play over his face as he tip-toed closer and put his hands around her eyes. She stiffened, before relaxing when realizing who it was.

"Hmm the Ghost from Christmas Past?" He grinned and sat down next to her, facing her equally smiling face.

"Ah, you caught me. Nervous?" Hermione's eyes went wide for a second before she glanced down at her hands, nervously knitting in her lap.

"Only a little bit."

There was a commotion upstairs and Angelina came out, sliding down the banister. Following in the more conservative fashion of the stairs was the rest of the Quidditch team, including the Q.I.T. members. Hermione stood, and Harry realized that she was wearing her Quidditch uniform, despite it's high discomfort. He should have been jealous, considering that this had been his team, he'd been the star Seeker. But he wasn't jealous, not in the least. In fact, he was insanely proud of Hermione.

"Morning Harry! Hermione! You ready for a fantastic game today? We'll beat Ravenclaw, I know we will!" Angelina's enthusiasm was infectious and the grins reappeared on the two's faces. "Alright everybody: move out!"

The team disappeared and only Harry and Hermione remained, staring at each other still. The rest of the House would be rising soon.

"Are you coming?" Harry grimaced. Just the thought of seeing anyone anymore than two feet above ground made his head swim and his stomach ache. But Hermione looked so pleadingly at him

"I'll try." She nodded, smile forming again, this time with teeth. Then, she turned and started climbing out into the hallway. Harry frowned when he caught a glimpse of blue in Hermione's hair, but it must have just been the light, for when he looked again it was the same as always. He called out to her again. "Good luck!"

To be continued...

Stay tuned for Chapter 6 and 7 coming very soon! And don't be afraid to comment! And look for a new chapter to Sorting (ron's!) and a new HP fic coming from me that's a littler darker than normal...  
Anywho, review! Or send me email! angelfire2996@yahoo.com


End file.
